


Pitch and Emerald

by blushingninja



Series: An Angelic Generation of Miracles [2]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Horror, M/M, Teacher-Student Relationship, angel au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2017-06-10
Packaged: 2018-05-08 22:53:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 33,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5516252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blushingninja/pseuds/blushingninja
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angelic healer of the Generation of Miracle Shintarō Midorima just wanted a peaceful life. However at the shifting order of his lord and master Seijūrō Akashi, his life is a constant tidal wave of uncertainty, terror and tainted nightmares. A solid pillar in his wavering world however is the innocent influence of his once student Kazunari Takao, however time and tide waits for no one and upon their reunion Midorima discovers his adored prodigy is now all grown up. Refusing to acknowledge the younger angel’s strength and growth, Midorima fights a war within himself as well as the world as he struggles to come to terms with his feelings and that of his ex student's.<br/>It would never be easy for the ill fated couple but things worth fighting for seldom are. </p><p>A prequel to ‘Burning Feathers’</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Ohhh this has been a long time coming but I just finished the whole thing! *fist pump* At well over 50,000 words, it's a little longer then Burning Feathers, but plenty of fun and had heaps of research required to polish it off (ah the 70's...crazy)
> 
> So here is my prequel to [Burning Feathers](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2434715) centred around Midorima and Takao's relationship. So we already know they get together, fall in love and live happily ever after, but here is the story of how... It's sad and a little silly in places, but I really enjoyed writing this and I hope y'all enjoy reading it too. Much thanks
> 
> Again the inspiration for these stories come from Nalini Singh's Archangel Series, I highly recommend them, they're amazing!

The smell of burning flesh forced him awake. His eyes flying open and reaching out blindly for his glasses, Midorima was thankful for his consciousness enough to take them with his left hand. Routine and schedule dictated his every movement and of course no flesh was burning this night. The linger memory of old wars and the ever present fear of new battles to come the only thing burning in his mind. Sitting up and adjusting his sleeping cap with a yawn, the angel flared his wings wide feeling them drag against the futon behind him. He was thankful for the pillows piled either side of him during his brief but necessary sleep, it ensured he didn't thrash around and helped keep his hair neat. Taking a deep breath before forcing himself up and to work through a set of stretches, Midorima rubbed his still tired eyes.

 

He'd managed yet another exhausting week, locking himself away in the library for days on end and only realising the days had changed when the night of the eighth straight day had caught his attention. Staring out the open window, book in hand, the week long fatigue had hit him uncomfortably hard. Sleep had been the best option and once passed out in the corner of his small, isolated quarters, Midorima had been reluctant to wake and face the day. The last week had been his retreat from the real world, away from those seeking his help and council and there was a selfish part of him that wanted nothing more than to just lock himself back up in the library and not speak to a single soul for the next century. But that would be unfair and people were relying on him. Relying on him to save them, save their children, their parents, to save everyone. It was his job, his passion and his worth in this life, but that didn't mean he had to like it.

  
  


After a morning of seeing to a collection of pollution victims and deeming them clear and healthy, Midorima was surprised when a distinct set black wings entered his chambers.

“It has been been to long Akashi, I hope you are well.” The Emperor of their small unit was a rare sight in Tokyo these days, opting to spend much of his time locked away in Kyoto with his newly _made_ consort. It was pleasant to see him and yet unexpected at the same time. Smile gracing his thin lips, the small redhead took a seat across from his old friend.

“I am very well Shintarō,” he glanced around the simply furnished office with a raised eyebrow. “Humble settings.”

“I do humble work” came the quick reply. Pushing his glasses up his nose with a bandaged hand, Midorima was the first to admit his leader's reappearance was unnerving at best. It had been a long time since he'd been called upon and now seemed far too out of the blue. There had been no great developments in their recent history that should warrant his attention, as such it was almost impossible to pin pointed Akashi's motives.

“Which is a shame,” the small angel countered, watching his friend with a shifting gaze. “We could currently use your expertise in putting down the rebel factions in the East.” Thinking over the shifting political turmoil across the entire South East, Midorima wasn't surprised RULE was taking such a strong stance on the matter. If anti angelic rebels managed to stir up enough trouble the human revolts that would follow could spell disaster for their kind. But he would not be the one to help put it down, his job was no longer linked to the battlefront and if it was it was only to clean up after the carnage.

 

“I am thankful for the consideration but have no interest in killing off cattle.” The tiny twitch in Akashi's pale face made Midorima want to retract his words. Even since Nijimura's sacrifice and Akashi had taken a consort, a very human consort, any reference to the lower beings in a derogatory sense was not be taken lightly.

“Again, a shame.”

 

Falling into uncomfortable silence, the green winged angel looked towards the sliding door of his office for some kind of saviour. No doubt his assistant had been instructed to remove all patients until this meeting was over, so there was little chance of avoiding it. “Shall I be blunt Shintarō?” Picking up on his discomfort and the awkward nature of the situation, Akashi must have seen fit to put him out of his misery.

“I always prefer you to be so,” the tall angel said, fiddling with a small pendent in his hand. The lucky item for the day as predicted by the grand Oha Asa. Folding his hands in front of him with a cool sense of confidence and strength that came natural, Akashi stared down his bespectacled companion.

 

“I need you in the North, Shūtoku to be exact.” Filing through every available piece of information he could remember about the refuge, Midorima nodded slowly.

“The civilian sanctuary?” Looking pleased that he'd remembered, Akashi nodded.

“Yes, they are in need of a teacher and I need you out of Tokyo.” Narrowing his eyes at the strangeness of the command, the tall angel immediately went to decline, but was stopped as his companion spoke. “Things are changing Shintarō and soon, very soon there will be an extensive change to RULE.” Frowning it took everything in him not to shake his head. The Uncrowned Generals were heading RULE as strong and worthy as they always had. Unmovable forces in the greater scheme of things. Surely these human uprisings would do little to shake that stability.

“I don't think I understand.”

 

“I don't need you to, not yet anyway.” Akashi brushed him off quickly with a small wave of his hand. “So long as I continue to have your loyalty, your title and practice will still be here when you return.” Tensing, Midorima tipped his chin up, refusing to be bullied as he'd seen his friend do to many others.

“And if I don't leave Tokyo?” The bizarre gold and crimson of the small angel's eyes pinned him to his seat and bore no argument as he spoke.

“You don't have a choice.

Only his history with Akashi had him agreeing to take the position, that and fearing the redhead's wrath should he return to Tokyo. Shūtoku felt similar to the rookeries and refuges he'd lived and worked in over the years. His own early years however had been spent in the close confines of his family's estate. However now in this day and age, the threat from external and internal forces drew communities of angels together. Angelic children were rare and prized, so raising them together in large, family based rookeries was a practice now highly developed and used all over the world not only in Japan or Asia. But that didn't mean he had to like it.

  
  


Having packed up his office and left the relative quiet neighbourhood he'd called home for such a long time, Midorima’s flight up North had been a far greater work out then he'd experienced since leaving his military duties. By the end of his flight his back ached and his wings were limp with exhaustion. What was worse his friendly and cheerful guide had informed him on his immediate arrival that he'd be starting work that very morning. There wasn't enough imported American coffee to wake up him and yet standing in front of his flock of new students, he managed to feel more awake than he had in years. When Akashi had said _teacher_ , Midorima had been quietly pleased. The face to face contact his office in Tokyo had been based around was tiring. The idea of teaching classes in an impersonal, distant setting was far too appealing. His guilt would be satisfied and it would leave him free for further his studies and perfect his art. But that was not what greeted him upon his arrival to the quiet, rural sanctuary. Instead of a small group of bright eyed and eager prodigies, he found a clambering, loud troop of toddlers. Actual angelic toddlers. Children children, not young adults, actual creatures barely walking and just old enough to not be called babies.

 

Midorima had to take a physical step back, the noise and energy that met him was overbearing. Beyond the occasional little one that parents brought into his practice, his experience with children was next to none and yet here he was. Shaking his head as his guide smiled and left him relatively alone, panic set in as seventeen pairs of little eyes stared him down. Face red and mouth dry, the tall angel could do little than just stand, stock still and terrified. There would be hell to pay for this, Akashi would be paying for this, for months, maybe years even on end. Midorima did not take humiliation well and he was sure he was on the butt end of the Emperor's joke. He certainly no time for such mockery.

 

“Good morning.” He said stiffly, entering the classroom and shutting the door behind him, cutting off his last route of escape.

“Good morning.” A chorus came back at him, standing up to greet their new teacher, the noise and chaos seemed to dull, if not only for a second. Piling up his single bag behind the desk and all but collapsing in the chair, Midorima wanted nothing more than to just sink into the floor and wake up back in Tokyo like none of this had ever happened.

“Are you dying?” Looking up from his hands with a tired sigh, the tall angel shook his head.

“No, are you?” A small, dark winged child seemed to have perked up the courage to not only speak, but stand at the front of his desk with a curious cock of his head. And his snarky, snappy remark appeared to be met only with a giggle and a grin.

“No. Are you old?” Cleaning his glasses before pushing them up high on his nose, Midorima stared around the classroom to try and gauge the situation. The class was on a knife's edge, ready to laugh and act up the moment if this little joker caught him out. If he lost their respect now it would take months to get back and hopefully he wouldn't need to be there for any longer then a term. In saying that, Akashi hadn't given him a real time frame for his new position, it could be years for all he knew.

“Yes” he said finally, staring down the little boy with a frown. “I am very old. And you are not. So sit down and be quiet.” Smiling in his face, the little boy looked over his shoulder and shook his head.

“How old?” Gritting his teeth as he stood up and leant over the desk, Midorima gave the youngster his best glare.

“Very old. Go sit down.”

 

Bright grey eyes stared back at him, completely fearless and with a glint of humour. Children these days were so spoiled he wasn't surprise fear tactics didn't work with this little brat.

“You didn't say please.” The room erupted in laughter and gasps as the dark haired child squared his shoulders and refused to stand down. Sighing, Midorima nodded, his sense of fairness eating at him. Children were young and needed a good sense of guidance, manners were part of that but that didn't mean cheek would be tolerated.

“Can you _please_ take yourself outside and stop disturbing the class.” Nodding, the cheeky little monster waved at his classmates as he exited the room. A practice that seemed all too familiar to him and for some reason Midorima was sure he was going to suffer for that later. Turning his attention back to the class with a tired sigh, the newly promoted teacher inquired about the class and their latest course work. Leaving them relatively quiet and working through activities in their text books, he slipped out the door and was relieved to see the trouble maker sitting just outside.

 

“Do you feel like you can be a productive and quiet member of the classroom now?” Talking down to the boy and watching him humming as if actually considering his request, the green winged angel waited patiently for the youngster's reply.

“I think I am a productive and quiet member of the classroom and you are old.” Rubbing his eyes and resisting the urge to smack him up the side of the head, Midorima gestured back to the classroom.

“No more cheek, please.” He added quickly, watching the little one grin. “Go.” Watching him strut back into classroom his head held high, the ex doctor touched his shoulder lightly before he could disturb the rest of the class. “What's your name by the way?” He would need it later when making a report to the only other teacher at the small school. Maybe he was a repeat offender and perhaps it would be time for some parental intervention. He could only hope so, then maybe he wouldn't have to deal with the brat so often.

“Kazunari Takao. What's your name?” Open his mouth to snap, but realising he hadn't at all introduced himself to the class, the tall angel blushed bright red.

“I am Shintarō Midorima and I'll be your new teacher.” Levelling a look at the small boy with stern eyes, he almost smiled at the tenacity he saw there. “Now please be quiet and turn to page sixteen.”

  
  
  


With the day over and finishing his brief and somewhat rushed conversation with Nakatani, an old and somewhat tired looking angel who held the only other teaching position in the sanctuary, Midorima was ready for bed. Akashi had at least ensured he'd be accommodated during his undermined stay and the small cottage located high up on the cliff of the mountain refuge was just perfect. Away from the main rookery and high enough that it was unlikely any of his new students could come bother him unless being flown by one of their parents. The majority of his luggage would be shipped up in the coming months by foot so for now he was living out of the single bag he'd packed for the trip up.

 

Coming into land at the edge of the small, neat garden coming off the cliff face, he fiddled around in his pockets for the keys his guide had passed along to him earlier in the day.

“Midorima-sensei! Hello!” There would be no peace for him today it seem. Watching a cloud of feather descend from on high, he waited with a frown, rehearsing his polite send off in his head. “Sensei, look. I brought you my treasure.” Headache tripling, Midorima forced a smile as a small, downy fluff of feathers tumbled to earth beside the mirror replicate adult one.

 

“Midorima Sensei, welcome to Shūtoku, I have delivered my son for his apology.” Speechless, the green winged angel simply nodded, taking the hand offered in greeting.

“Thank you... Takao-san I presume? I am humbled by the welcome and concessions given.” Looking down and frowning at the young angel edging suspiciously closer to him, he voiced his confusion. “Your son's apology?” Nodding sternly, the dark haired angel flared his wings, the small gust all but bowling the little one over, a warning to behaviour.

“Yes, Nakatani told us what a rascal he'd been to the new teacher so I thought it best he make amends as soon as possible. Kazunari?” Picking himself up and dusting himself down, the bright eyed youngster stood before his teacher without fear.

“My treasures.” Digging around in a small satchel around his waist, the small boy offered the tall male a handful of brightly coloured stones.”I'm sorry I was rude and called you old and disturbed and was a men..ace?” Looking at his father for confirmation, he turned back with a grin, upending his handful into Midorima's hands as he bent down.

 

“Apology accepted. Good pronunciation.” Clapping hands clean, his problem student bowed respectfully.

“I had to practice. Daddy when can I get my treasures back?”

“When sensei thinks you deserve them back. So if you keep causing trouble you won't get them back at all.” Shooting a look at Midorima to see if he understood the punishment, the doctor gave the dark haired adult a nod. Message received, loud and clear.

“Well I'll keep these in a safe place until then. Thank you very much for your son's apology and your introduction Takao-san. I look forward to seeing you again in the future.” Kneeling down to pick up his son, the other man nodded.

“You're most welcome. Say goodbye to sensei Kazunari.”

“Bye bye sensei, look after my treasures for me. They're magic.” Forcing his hand up in a weak attempt at a wave, Midorima watched the father/son duo until they flew back down into the rookery and disappeared from sight.

  
Walking to the edge of his garden to stare out at the slowly setting sun and the cliff below he was half tempted to toss the handful of useless rocks off the side. The only thing stopping him was hope of saving his reputation in such a small community. The last he needed was to isolate himself worse than he already would and tossing away a child's precious toy probably was too cruel even for him. And beside for all he knew Oha Asa might have stones listed as a lucky item within the coming months. He had no faith that young Kazunari Takao would keep his good boy act up, especially in the classroom. But only time would tell and the angel desperately hoped it wouldn't be for too long.


	2. Chapter Two

“What's the real world like?” Scanning the wide field and watching his students play, Midorima shrugged.

“It's the same as here really. There isn't at all that much difference.” Not at all satisfied with the answer, Takao knelt up straighter in his teacher's lap.

“No really, what's it like? What are humans like? Have you ever seen a cat?” Scowling, the green winged angel promptly dropped the little one on the ground, holding a hand to his inky black hair to keep him from climbing back up again.

“Don't just use people as seats. Nobody likes that, stop it.” Grabbing his hand before he was quick enough to withdraw it, Takao pulled a face.

“Nobody likes it when you sit down during playtime but you always do.” Frowning at his cheek, Midorima brushed off the tease. Over the past couple of years he'd become fairly well accustomed to the dark haired little brat and his attics, fairly well but not completely. Sometimes the youngster pushed things too far, including his new found ability to reach Midorima's cottage. More than once he'd returned home to find the boy reading in his library or sorting through his belongings.

 

He still had no sense of personal space or ownership so it was unlikely his stints of breaking and entering would be ending any time soon.

“The real world is very boring” he said with shrug. “Humans are many in number and rude. Cats are furry terrorists that must be stopped at all costs.” Surrendering his hand as it became obvious the young one wasn't letting go, Midorima watched a trio of little girls weave grass chains. “Why don't you go annoy them for a little while. There's only another fifteen more minutes left.” Shaking his head, Takao was content to stay with the teacher as he did most play times. While he was well liked within the class, he attached himself to Midorima and seldom strayed.

“Why don't you go play with them.” Shaking his head, the emerald eyed man was quick to scold the youngster as he began to unwrap his fingers.

“Excuse you, don't do that please.” End of the bandage in hand, Takao looked concerned all of a sudden.

“You must be very clumsy.” Watching layer after layer of muslin peel away, Midorima's sour look remained.

“I'm the least clumsy person, ever.” Thinking to Murasakibara and his inability to do anything delicate or gentle, he knew the true face of clumsiness.

“Then why do you keep hurting your fingers? Mama says only clumsy people hurt their fingers all the time.” Curse the innocence of children and their accompanying curiosity. Letting the boy finish his unwrapping, the confusion on his face was adorably plain. “Did you spill ink on your hands?”

 

Grim faced, the doctor shook his head.

“No. They're scars.” Screwing his little face up in deep concentration, the dark haired boy held up his elbow, gesturing to a patch of scar tissue and healed skin. Nodding Midorima let him turn his fingers towards the light, investigating closer.

“Did you fall over?” Unable to hold back a tiny smile, he tugged his hands back and bopped the boy gently on the nose.

“No, and never you mind. Playtime is almost up, go run around for a bit and burn off some of that energy.” Scowling, his little face screwed up in frustration, Takao stuck his tongue out before running off to chase down one of his classmates.Watching them play with a heavy heart, Midorima delved into his pocket and pulled out a roll of tape. Expertly re-taping his burnt and damaged hand in minutes, the green winged angel tried his best to force aside the memories of his past, the pain and suffering caused both to and by him. It wasn't worth the ache in his heart and the sickness in his stomach. This wasn't the time for such haunting memories, now was time to herd his class inside and get settled into spelling and letters.                                                           

  
  


Putting down his cup and listening to gentle tick as it settled against the saucer, Midorima yawned and pulled off his glasses. Rubbing his eyes, he craned his neck side to side. It had been a tiring week and one he would much rather forget. Having received the first correspondence from Akashi for that year he’d been amazed by it's contents. The redhead had spoken of upheaval in the coming years, chatter of a new age and new times that he foresaw quickly approaching. But what news he brought the healer was completely unexpected.

_ Through a connection with the local human merchants, the Western rookies will open their gates to a small collection of travellers. They will be human but few, I look to you to lead the good behaviour of the communities, many of them haven't seen humans in centuries or if ever. Please help the easy transition as it will work in our favour. This is the start of the revolution and I need your support. _

 

_ Revolution. _ Midorima hated that word. He'd heard it hundreds of times before and the result was always the same. From either human or angel; death, blood shed and terror. And he wanted none of that. Especially for Shūtoku and the surrounding clans. But he was not one to disagree with Akashi, his friend and his Emperor who had lead them to victory for hundreds of years. And if this was the next step in his plan, Midorima go along with it willing.

 

So he left his class to Nakatani and lead a tour around his adopted home. He was polite and patient and was also quietly thankful the humans seemed well versed in angelic culture. But then that wasn't surprising considering they had been sent by Akashi. Answering any relevant questions, he flinched as he noticed the crowded cliffs above the streets at sea level. Many of the angels hadn't seen real humans in years and likewise all of his class had never even heard a human voice let alone seen one. Twisting his mouth unhappily, he pinpointed the faces of many youngsters, hanging off the cliffs, their tiny wings flapping and hands waving. Hopefully his little ones would never know fear or pain the way he had. He prayed that the cheeky little brat Takao would never know agony or do damage to another and seeing him there, waving and grinning, Midorima hoped more than anything he would remain young and childish forever. Having finished his duties and leaving their human guests with a range of other dignitaries, he vanished to his cottage, reading late into the night and until his eyes started to ache he fixed himself another tea and waited for the kettle to boil.

 

Somewhere along the long years Midorima had developed a special sense of foresight. Maybe it was due to spending so long with Akashi, but when tragedy struck, he could always feel it coming. Yanking the kettle off the fire and straining his ears, he could hear the distant beat of wings, even before the thump of a landing. Pulling on a loose yukata, the green winged male moved swiftly to the door, surprised when it opened before he reached it.

“Midorima-sensei, please. In the village, we need your aid.”

He'd meet Kin before, a tall man with orange and black wings. His dark haired was shaved neatly at the sides and his black smithery was renowned across Japan and possibly the world. He also had a young daughter in Midorima's class, a tiny creature with soft eyes and who blushed when it was her turn to speak in class.

“What seems to be the problem?” Being on high alert due to the humans arrival, he awaited news of some grand, internal conflict. Humans over stepping their mark or curious angels causing a hassle. Instead the board angel looked flustered and terrified, not mildly displeased or concerned.

“Hina, she's not breathing. She just keep coughing and she's all blue. We don't know what to do.” The panic in his voice increasing by the second, Kin took him by the shoulder, staring him down an intense dark gaze. “Please help her.”

 

Acting on reflex after years of hard learned training and preparation, Midorima grabbed a medical kit from storage before following Kin in a quick descent down into the village. All but hitting the ground running, the pair dashed into a ground level home, passing a fussing woman with teary eyes. Parents were a struggle in these situations and the best place for them was somewhere quiet and out of the way. Kneeling beside a tiny bed and its tiny occupant, Midorima steady his hands before doing a first assessment. His little ward had a fever and indeed her breathing was heavily laboured. But this was far worse than any common cold or influenza. He hadn’t seen anything like this in years and with a heavy heart he diagnosed his patient.

“Pertussis” he said solemnly, directing his attention from the poor babe to her worried parents.

“Is that bad?” Wife in his arms, Kin looked frantically at the doctor, awaiting further explanation or a miracle. Adjusting his glasses and trying hard to keep his face calmly neutral, Midorima took a deep breathe.

“It might be.” He didn't want to go worrying the couple any more then needed but in the same sense, it was no use in giving them hope if there wasn't any. “I haven't seen a case this bad in many years. I believe it'll be a fault in her immune system.”

 

Watching the little girl gasp for breathe, her tiny body seizing as a fit of coughing took over her, the green haired angel stood stiffly. “She's never seen humans before has she?” Shaking his head, Kin and his wife brushed past the healer, trying in vain to stem their daughter suffering.

“No, she's been raised in the rookery. Why? Is that bad?” This was a difficult situation, the last thing he wanted was for Akashi new peace endeavours to fail. But he certainly wasn't going to lie to the parents of sick child for the Emperor's piece of mind.

“Some years ago when I was working in the new world, I worked with a bout of Pertussis patients. All angelic and many of them very young.” He remembered it distinctly as the human population was suffering the same losses within their own people and for much the same reason. “Babies who have not grown up in contact with humans lack a strength against human airborne diseases. Pertussis is one of those disease and seldom do their undeveloped immune systems stand a chance.” Taking a deep breathe, he watched the couple, gauging their reaction before continuing.

“But... Then what can we do? How do you fix her immune system?” Remembering back to the plagues for the past, his stomach churning with anxiety and worry, Midorima shook his head.

“I'm so sorry. You can't.”

 

He'd expected aggression, anger and the wailing sobs of a distraught mother, instead he found tears and confusion.

“There must be something. Anything.” Hands fisting in the sheets of the young girl's bed, Kin fumbled around his words. “Can't you do anything?” Clearing his throat and reciting a familiar string of sentences, Midorima kept his head down.

“Without any internal defence or built up immunity against the bacterial virus, even angelic systems can fail. Especially with those so young.” Sneaking a glance at the feverish child, frustration eating at him, Midorima pushed on. “The only cure is her own will to fight. If she can survive the night, she'll be fine.” He didn't want to add the success rates of what he could remember from the last time encountering this. Because it wasn't good and the last thing he need was them losing hope. But nothing he'd said was a lie, in twenty four hours if her body could burn out the cough and fever, she would live. If not, she would succumb to the virus and be lost forever.

 

Knocked off balance, a fist clenched around his shirt, Midorima found himself facing down a very angry father. Eyes unsettled and teary, Kin looked wild.

“So we just sit here and do nothing?” Straightening his glasses as he took a step back, the green haired angel nodded sadly.

“I'm sorry, I can do my best to make her comfortable but it will be her fight to push through and win. I am truly sorry this has occurred and I will try everything in my power to help.” Some of his reason must have gotten through to the terrified father because Kin's hand dropped. Looking up, the terror and pain in his expression was the reason Midorima never slept well.

“I hope you're right sensei, because it's not just us.”

  
  


Taking a deep breathe as he held his student's tiny wrist between his thumb and forefinger, the Miracle counted out the tiny beats of the youngster’s heart, his stomach dropping. Another four of his class and some older children had fallen ill in the past six hours. Each one suffering the same symptoms, each coughing and short of breathe. The disease took his first victim around midnight. A tiny baby barely a couple of years old and incapable of bouncing after such an attack. Dealing with mourning parents hurt, but the worse was to come. Ordering all the infected little ones to the infirmary, the doctor called for a state of emergency. Quarantining families in their homes gave him enough time to contact Akashi and inform him on the situation. The minute he lifted the quarantine, the rookery would be out for blood. The human blood of those who'd entered their community and killed their children.

 

Sure enough within the hour of contacting the Emperor, a set of steely faced guards from Rakuzan had swooped down on the village, collecting the human merchants and fleeing. Swiftly returning to focus on his duties, he came back to a full infirmary and several new additions to his care. Including the beloved classroom joker Takao and his little sister, sick, feverish and bed bound. Checking the time and drawing on some inner strength, Midorima looked over the young ones with tired eyes. If he was lucky they'd be seeing some small improvement from the early cases in the next couple of hours. Until then he would just wait, keeping them hydrated and comfort grieving parents with icy professionalism. Finishing a round he came to sit beside his young companion, his father a little way off kneeling by his small daughter bed, eyes raw and teary. Taking the boy's pulse and pushing his sweaty bangs back from his eyes, Midorima brushed a finger over Takao's brow.

“If you wake up,” he said softly. “If you win this fight, you can have your treasures back. They're still in my room, locked away for when you earnt them back.” Taking the boy's tiny hand in his own, the green winged angel squeezed gently. “Fight. I know you can do it, please.” Offering a small pray before leaving the two children and their ever vigilant father, Midorima held his head high, refusing to admit defeat or show weakness. If he did everyone would lose faith and that was the last thing he needed. He needed strength and reliance. He needed his students to be strong and as their teacher, he would lead the way.

  
  


It had only been twenty hours, less even and yet it felt like weeks. The mental fatigue was weighing heavy on him and bed had never seemed so appealing. Fighting back the drowsy yawn, Midorima cleared a third child with passing results and sent them home with relieved parents. Throughout the night they'd lost a further two toddlers, but since then most had been on the mend. Ticking another off the cleared list, he glanced over his shoulder at the many still remaining. Their breathing was stable and for a glorious moment, he believed the worst had passed.

“Sensei?” Coming out of his day dream, eyes refocusing, he looked up to Takao's father and to the little boy on the bed. “Is he okay?” Frowning as he stood up, limbs heavy like iron, the doctor crossed the room, slow and steady. Touching his forehead and checking his temperature, Midorima cupped the boy's face in his hands, checking his breathing and glandes.

“Takao, can you hear me?” Watching the scrunch in his miniature face and a tiny moan escape his lips, small, silver eyes peered up at him dazed and confused.

“Shin-chan?” Too relieved to scold him, Midorima ran a hand over his soft, downy hair with a smile.

“Welcome back Takao.”


	3. Chapter Three

**_Fifty years later_ **

Coming into land with a gentle grunt, Midorima gazed around the rookery he'd once called home with the eyes of a stranger. This was nothing like the quiet, peaceful village he'd left with head held high and emotions in shambles. It was too bright, too busy and with activity buzzing left, right and centre. Hitching his bag up over his shoulder, he walked an unfamiliar path to what should have been his school, but what was now a thieving community centre. The village's population seemed to have swelled in his half century and some absences and thankfully too he thought as he bowed to the guardian at the centre's entrance. Many of the older rookeries had been dissolved in order to create large communities. Most in fact had congregated in larger cities like Tokyo, Kyoto and Yokohama. That Midorima didn't doubt was Akashi's influence. Backed by five of their strongest counterparts and squad mates, the redhead had steadily gained more popularity and power in the past few decades. With humans engaged in their own feeble conflict, angelic kind flourished in the wake of such destruction and Akashi was heading that boom. Pulling a face as he inspected a collection of art on display, Midorima straightened immediately as he recognised the familiar face of his long time co-worker and guide Nakatani.

“Aren't you a welcomed sight” the old angel greeted him. Pulling him into a back break hug, the grizzled angel looked him over fondly. “This is a surprise. Tired of the big city?” Shaking his head, silently warmed by the welcome, Midorima smiled.

“Hardly, this place is a mini city in of itself.” Nodding Nakatani looked around the fancy, new building with proud eyes.

“We got a lot of refugees when Hakai was shut down, it was either adapt or die.” He grinned. “Not that it was much of a choice. We had new homes and facilities up in a couple of years. Lots of growth.” Clasping him on the shoulder, the old man gestured down the hall with a tip of his chin. “He's going be ecstatic you’re here. Want to reap the reward of all your hard work?”

 

Confused but highly intrigued, the tall angel followed his friend, keeping his eyes and ears keen to any clue on his intention. Approaching a side room with door slightly ajar Nakatani beckoned him peer inside. Listening to a string of laughter trickling out from within, Midorima glanced inside, confused. A presentation was in full swing, a blackboard filled with diagrams and amusing illustrations a backdrop for an animated young angel giving narration. The room was packed, full with only standing space available, the audience crammed was crammed together shoulder to shoulder.

“He's very popular, although among his female students it may just be his person and not the subject matter.” Cocking an ear closer to the door and trying to catch the end of the presenter’s sentence over Nakatani's words, Midorima's eyes widened.

 

No wonder it was such a large group of such an adult audience. English was a quickly growing skill, especially with the introduction of such nations as America in the humans global conflict. Subject matter aside, the green winged angel zoned in on the presenter with sudden interest. There was something about him that screamed familiar, an aura or being around him that felt real and so very close. Staring closely, his jaw immediately dropped as he caught the brilliant flash of silver in the angel's eyes. It couldn't be and yet as he glanced at Nakatani, the shock must have been plain on his face.

“He was always your star pupil right? You really straightened him out, especially after the whooping cough scare. He really stepped up.” Tempted to tug the door open and actually invest his attention in the class, it would doubtless be too disruptive. But there was a part of him that really wanted to. Just to see if it was real or if Nakatani was just tricking him.

“Kazunari Takao?” Voice barely above a whisper, the doctor felt ten times more awake and alive then he had in the past ten years. And reward for his hard work indeed.

 

Takao looked good. Adult, strong and healthy. Memories of that tiny little boy, sweating and feverish on the cusp of death flashed before Midorima's eyes. And nothing brought him more joy than seeing the youngster living life to the fullest. His hair was still dark as pitch, his wings the same save for the occasional flash of emerald. Gone was the baby fat and innocence round of his face. He looked fit and lean, his face sharp and chiselled with the eyes of a hawk bright, alert and all seeing. “He's a teacher?”

“He's an everything” Nakatani corrected. “Teacher, councillor, captain of the Skydancers and general pillar of the community. He's the only one I have on hand, but all of your students turned out stellar in nature and ethic. You did great Midorima-sensei, I'm sorry things ended the way they did.” Stiffening at the memory, the tall angel nodded sharply.

“It wasn't your fault, I chose my own actions, for right or wrong it's done now.” Nodding, the old angel admired his resolve if anything. It was that kind of pride the grand healer and once warrior of the Generation of Miracles was known for.

“Would like to meet him after this? I'm sure he'd be thrilled to see you.” Bitter memories and hurt pushed momentarily aside, Midorima nodded, eyes back to the crowded classroom.

“I'd love to.”

  
  


He was not loving this. Had he known how popular his ex student was he would have gone for a tea and come back. Instead he was waiting awkwardly just beyond the classroom door, waiting for the straggling well wishers and admirers to leave. But as it hit the ten minute mark, his patience was at its limits. Head high, Midorima strode through the open door, wings tucked tightly behind his back lest he bump into anyone. Takao stood before the blackboard, duster in hand while chatting with a trio of young females, all fluttery and giggling. Giving them a look no doubt designed to smoulder their clothes off, those sharp silver eyes glanced quickly at the tall angel before the duster fell from his hands and he dashed across the room impossibly quick.

 

“SHIN-CHAN~” Midorima wasn't sure what he'd expected, but the dive tackle of a hug wasn't it. Arms around his neck, legs about his waist, it seemed that Takao still hadn't learnt the concept of personal space. His face close and nuzzling, the dark haired angel took in his teacher’s reappearance with teary eyes. “Shin-chan came back.” Touching his face, his glasses and hair, Takao chuckled. “Wow it's really you, sour face and all. What are you doing here? Did you get my letters? How long are you here for?” Overwhelmed by the sheer number of questions and amount of physically contact, Midorima could only shrug and try to throw together some kind of response.

“I came to visit for a couple of days. What letters?” It had been some years ago, but he surely would have remembered something like letters. It was one of the few sentimental things he liked to keep. Shaking his head, Takao hid his look of hurt with a wide smile.

“It mustn't have been you. My apologies. Hey Shin-chan?” Nodding, still dumbstruck and thrown off by the thought of letters, Midorima froze as the younger angel leant in close, their faces mere centimetres apart.

“Yes?” Smiling, the dark haired man squirmed a little, his legs squeezing tighter around the other man's waist.

“You're touching my butt.”

 

Brain unable to work at full capacity, Midorima  immediately panicked and he realise what the other man had even said. Having Takao jump at and into his arms had on reflex caused him to latch onto the smaller angel securing him in place lest he should fall. Unfortunately it left him with hands of Takao's ass and in a very public setting. All but dropping him, the green haired man wasn't the least surprised to see the younger angel in fits of laughter.

“And here I was thinking you'd changed.” Taking a deep breathe and wiping a tear from his eye, Takao took his hand, wrapped fingers and all. Raising it to his lips, he grinned, eyes gleaming.

“Not for you Midorima-sensei.”


	4. Chapter Four

Acting as tour guide, Takao showed his old mentor through their newly developed village, chatting the whole time and pulling him aside every second or third store or building to explain the origin or some interesting fact. Towards the end of the afternoon, Midorima was thoroughly exhausted, his mind and body filled to the brim with new experiences and knowledge. He hadn't exactly organised accommodation, half assuming he would have been run out of town the moment he touched down. So he was thankful when his student offered him a room.

“I'll even cook for you.” Grinning proudly as he gave direction to his home, Midorima was suddenly struck by the awareness of where they were going.

“You live in my house?”

“I live in a house you once lived in yes,” the younger man corrected. Wings rising up as he moved to lift off, Midorima couldn't help but shake his head. It probably wasn't that surprising and yet somewhere deep in his heart he was moved. Agreeing with Nakatani's first assessment, Takao had indeed done well.

 

The house certainly looked a lot more inviting then when he’d lived there. The garden was less overgrown and the tiny gate before the front door was unlocked, open and welcoming. There was even a little table and chairs on the front lawn, speaking volumes of Takao's open and social nature.

“It looks good.”

“Of course it does.” Grinning at him, the dark haired youth opened the door and invited him inside. “I tidied up a bit after you left but everything is still the original furniture. I like it.” Stepping inside and taking in the atmosphere, Midorima hummed in agreement. He himself hadn't added a lot to the original design of the house and in his hurried departure he left quite a bit behind. Nothing of serious importance but there were things he was surprised to see there now. Small things like the soft flourish on the mantle piece he'd added one late, bored night. Or the granite ball book ends that still stood side by side on a shelf in the library. Had he still managed to feel real emotions he might have shed a tear.

“Is soup okay? I have a heaps of vegetables I need to be rid of and you like soup right?” Looking thoughtful as he passed through into the kitchen, the young angel hummed. “You do, because mum used to make it for you because she was scared you never ate enough.” Giving him a quick once over, he frowned. “And I bet you're still not eating enough.” Shuffling his shoulders uncomfortably, Midorima went to scold him, wondering if his old teaching voice would have the same effect now.

“I eat plenty enough thank you very much. Your mother's soup was very good and very appreciated. Looking after all of you little brats was a full time job and then some. I seldom had time to think about or plan my meals.” In truth it hadn't just been Takao's mother who'd delivered him food on a weekly routine. He was sure there had been a mother's group gossiping about him. But rather than get mad he was happy to take their food and enjoy it, it was one less thing for him to worry about.

 

“You did look after us.” Putting a kettle on to boil, Takao offered him a seat and some tea, leaving Midorima to kneel at a familiar looking table. “You taught us and kept us in line. A pretty cushy deal really.” Huffing as he ran his fingers over the grain of the wood and the worn place mats, the green haired man shrugged. 

“Initially I didn't want to you know.” He almost cracked a smile. “But this place grew on me.”

“It does that.” Coming to join him at the table, Takao smiled. Swirling the teapot and mixing the loose tea mix within, the younger angel sighed. “But you left anyway.” Halting as he reached out to take a cup, Midorima frowned. They managed to avoid this subject for much of the afternoon, focusing on the positive outlook of the future rather than dwelling on the past. It wasn't as if the healer had anything to hide, but in the same sense who knew what the parents had told their children. For all he knew Takao might have thought he'd left of his own free will.

“I...” Clearing his throat and giving his student a serious look, Midorima began again. “I did what I had to do, both as a professional and a person. I stand by my decisions regardless of the consequences.” That sounded good and left enough room for the young man to draw his own conclusion depending on how much he knew and what he'd been told.

“I know that” his companion said softly. “It's the kind of person you are.” He chuckled, looking up with a grim smile that did nothing for his eyes. “But why did you do it?” That was a loaded question and one that could be in reference to a million situations. Why had he left? Why had he chosen Akashi's side rather than that of his new found community? Why had it been such a messy affair leaving him hated and refusing to return his adopted home for over fifty years? He needed more specifics before admitting anything and it would be up to Takao to elaborate.

 

“I don't think I understand what you mean?”

“Why did you leave us?” Hand trembling as he reached out and picked up the teapot, the dark haired man needed something to occupy him lest he do something embarrassing like start crying. Rubbing a hand over his eyes, the Miracle let the warmth of the tea seep through the cup and sooth the ever present ache in his hands.

“How much do you remember?” Looking down at his own cup, Takao shrugged. Swirling the dark tea around in tight circles, he sighed.

“I remembered everyone getting mad at you. I remember being really confused and angry because I didn't understand. And when I did understand it still didn't make any sense.” Bright silver eyes pinned him to his spot as the young man looked up. Teary and emotional, Takao looked hurt and tense. It was now best to put this whole thing to rest, at least to ensure they pushed forward towards a more positive conversation.

“It was simple really. I chose my lord and master over the rookery. It may not have been the right choice, but it was the choice I made at the time and there was no going back.” Leaning his elbow on the table and cocking his head to the side, Takao frowned.

“But why? Everyone hated you.” It was a tricky situation but Midorima pushed on regardless.

“In their eyes I let the murders of their children go, without reprimand and without consequence. More than that I had them flew out of the rookery by personal guard.” Sipping his tea the older man stood his ground. “I won't apologise for what I did. It happened and there is no taking it back.”

 

“And I wouldn’t want you to.” Surprised, Midorima bid him repeat, sure he'd misheard. “I don't think you did anything wrong and nowadays those who lived at the time see that sense as well. The humans didn't come to our village looking to hurt us. Everyone was just angry and sad, people make rash decisions when they're angry. You did the right thing.” Eyebrow raised, Midorima cocked his head to the side.

“I don't think you understand.”

“No I do” Sticking his finger in the tea and stirring it, Takao nodded. “I was just shattered you left, we all were.” Looking away awkwardly to the side, the older angel gave his apology. Waving him off, the dark haired man hopped up and went to the stoke the fire. “It's fine, the past is the past now. I'm just happy you’re back.” Taking a deep breathe, Midorima was put very much at ease, thankful he hadn't lost the respect of his student and that he'd grown up such a mature and sensible young man.


	5. Chapter Five

The soup was delicious. Hot, spicy and full of local vegetables and flavours. Relaxing back in the warmth of good company and good food, Midorima was pleased to be filled in on the last fifty years. Personal development aside, the green haired angel was pleased his student was doing so well and that the village was thriving. It had been a rocky couple of years for himself and his associates. Many of the Generation of Miracles had been relocated down into Tokyo at Akashi's bidding, but it was becoming difficult to live comfortably alongside the equally as powerful Uncrowned Generals. There wasn't enough room for both powerhouses and sooner or later it would boil down to something. That something however wouldn't be coming for some time and in his down time Midorima had been happy to return to Shūtoku just to check in. Sitting back now, his wing fluffed up against the warmth of the fire, he declined the offer for sake, watching Takao closely.

“I'm still struggling to get over the fact you're old enough to drink.” Blowing him off, the younger angel took a quick sip from his dish.

“Don't say it like that. I'm an adult now you know.” Finishing off his drink with a single swig, he caught Midorima's emerald gaze. Lit up by the low coals of the fire, his glasses reflected an orange blaze, making it hard to pinpoint his exact expression.

“I think I'm still coming to term with that.” Chuckling, Takao shuffled around the table, kneeling painfully on his own wings and playing it off as he came to sit closer to his teacher.

“I was just a baby when you saw me last.” Smile playing on his lips, Midorima brushed Takao's dark bang back from his eyes tenderly. Those bright silver eyes stared back at him, focused and quick.

“You still are a baby” he said softly, hand still tangled in the youngster's hair. Reaching up and taking the older man's hand, Takao fiddled with the wrappings around his fingers.

“I'm not” he said defensively, picking at the sticky end of the bandage. Letting him do as he would, Midorima sighed.

“I feel like we've been down this path before.” Looping off the white bandages from his companion’s fingers Takao nodded. 

“Are they still that bad?” Shrugging the healer wasn't sure how good his student's memory was.

“It hasn't changed.” Folding the sticky bandages up into a neat pile, Takao took the other man's large hand in his own. Burnt black and scarred, the young angel ran his fingers over the bumps and scar tissue with wide eyes.

“I'm amazed they haven't healed.”

“The trauma was too severe and at the time I didn't have proper cleansing equipment.” Even angels weren't immune to bacterial infections, although not usually deadly it had been days until he'd managed to wash his hands properly clean and by then the damage had been done. Resisting the urge to pull his hand away as the youngster raised a finger to his cheek, Midorima watched Takao rub the digit against his face. Feeling the rough texture against his skin, the dark haired angel sighed unhappily.

“Yeah, I read up about it.” Catching his eye with a small smile, Takao squeezed his hand gently. “Thank you for your sacrifice.” Blushing, the bespectacled man suppressed a shudder at the contact. It had been years since someone had paid him this much attention, especially on the physical side. It should have felt awkward and a little forced but as was everything with Takao, it just felt natural and maybe a little annoying.

 

“I did what I had to, just like when I save you and let the humans flee the rookery.” Sliding in closer, hand still clasped tightly in his grasp, Takao levelled his face with his teacher's.

“And I thank you for that.” It was hard to pull away when the young man had a hold on his hand, but watching him lean in for a kiss, Midorima lost his breath. He could not remember the last time someone had kissed him and the fact that it was Takao made his heart race. Lips pressed ever so gently against his, the healer knew he needed to stop. Professionalism and ethics eating at him as he let the youngster have his fill.

“Takao...” Breaking apart, the older man's hand still pressed to his chest, the bright eyed angel grinned stupidly.

“I've wanted to do that for so many years.” Licking his lips and cocking his head to the side, his cheeks were flushed and glowing. Raising a hand to his lips and touching the tingling flesh, Midorima shook his head slowly, trying to tug his hand back.

“Takao no.”Letting his hand go and pouting, the dark haired man looked on longingly.

“No? But-” Shushing him with a sharp hand gesture, Midorima tried to get his head together. Takao had kissed him. Legitimately kissed him, without accident or jest. The prospect was terrifying and he needed an out and soon. “Shin-chan?” Jumping back as a gentle finger tilted his chin up, the green winged angel stood jerkily, shaking his head.

“No, I can't take it.” Scrambling up to join him, Takao looked confused and a little hurt.

“Can't take what?” Gesturing between them, his wings rising in agitation, Midorima  frowned.

“This, you. Why would you do that? I don't understand.” Laughing humorlessly, his eyes bright with the firelight and mild fear, Takao spread his arms wide.

“What is there to understand? Shin-chan, I love you.”

 

Eyes wide, panic running through him, the green winged angel shook his head.

“No, you don't. You don't know what love is. You're… like five.” Scowling as he puffed out his chest and straightened to his full height, Takao didn't back down.

“I am not. I'm an adult.” Losing his bravado for a moment, the dark haired man looked down for a second. “Haven't I shown you that? Didn't I make you proud?” Midorima was way out of his depth, this was all too much. Takao couldn't understand what he was saying, he was just acting on feeling and emotion. It was just the influence of hormones and endorphins, he didn't even know what he was saying. He was too young, too naïve, this was a complete mess and he needed to leave.

“You...” he started slowly, pushing his glasses up his nose with deliberate slowness, “have grown into a wonderful young man. But.” He paused, taking a deep breathe. “I don't think this is what you want. This is just an illusion you've made in your head.”

 

Lip trembling, the young angel looked on the verge of tears, making Midorima feel ten times worst. It shouldn't have, he was just putting the youngster in his place. Putting him down now would ensure zero issues in the future. Maybe that was selfish of him, but it was for the youngster's greater good.

“But... I missed you.” Shaking his head, Midorima resisted the urge to reach out and reassuringly pat the other man's shoulder.

“I know, but you're still so young. Don't get confused and lost in a fantasy.” Raising his head as he looked about for his bag and planned his escape, Midorima sighed. “I'm sorry.” Jaw slack and eyes watering, Takao looked completely distraught, his whole aura fading and wings drooping.

“But why?” Stepping away from him and moving across the room, the green winged angel stooped quickly to retrieve his bag, startled when Takao was suddenly standing before him, hand fisted in his shirt. “Are you listening to me? Why?” Trying to step aside and untangling the hand, Midorima gave up quickly, the youngster was too worked up to see sense. It was best for him to just get it all out now, no doubt Takao would hate him for it later but it would be worth it if he could save his student a world of pain.

“I am not who you think I am. You don't even know me. You know the image of me I portrayed to you as a child. Coupled with the fact I saved your life and that of your classmates you see me in a heroic light. This is just an illustration. I'm so sorry.” Sobbing, tears running down his face, Takao refused to see sense, sorrow and emotion clouding his logic conscious.

“No, I know you. You're Shintarō Midorima, the Sniper of the Generation of Miracles. You listen to the prophecies of Oha Asa sensei every day. You're superstitious, hard working and completely anti social. Please believe me. I know you.” Resisting the urge to reach out and comfort him, Midorima shook his head, pushing past the young angel with his head held high.

“I'm so sorry, Takao.” Heading for the door, he paused as a thump from behind him signalled the youngster's fall to his knees. He needed to be strong, if he looked back down and gave any sign of weakness, he might just caved and give into his desire to comfort or at least try to.

“ _ Man proposes and God disposes. _ I did everything I could and you still won't have me.” Hand lingering over the door handle, Midorima kept his head low.

“I'm sorry. The fault is mine. Good bye Takao.”                         


	6. Chapter Six

**_Many Years Later_ **

Staring down at the pieces on the board, Midorima hummed, thinking over his next move.

“Today Shintarō, I only have so much time.”

“A rushed game is a weak game. Maybe you should put aside more time for your hobbies. All work and no play makes Akashi a dull boy.” Surprised when the redhead chuckled, the healer slide his piece across the board, already knowing the result of his actions.

“Now I think you've just given up.” Snapping the piece up and replacing it with his own, the leader of the Generation of Miracles sat back in his chair with a sigh. “Do you forfeit?” Looking over the board with tired eyes, Midorima nodded.

“I think I'm done. Maybe we should put aside some extra allowance next time.” Tapping his fingers against the arm of his chair, Akashi nodded.

“Maybe next time. However I didn't think you'd give up that easily.” Narrowing his unnerving gaze, the Emperor cast a scan over his healer. While it was impossible to actually read the angel's mind, he'd known the man long enough to gather some insight into his actions. “If you continue to mop in such a manner every time you receive news, you'll just draw out your pain. If you're that tortured go to him and beg forgiveness.”

 

Stiffening at his friend's word, Midorima refused to meet his eye, staring at his hands instead.

“I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about.”

“Nonsense” Akashi spat, sitting forward in his seat, eyes bright and head tilted up, unmoving. “Don't try and play coy with me Shintarō, in fact don't play coy at all, it doesn't suit you.” Frowning, a little insulted, Midorima shrugged noncommittally.

“In which case it's none of your business.” Shaking his head and inhaling deeply Akashi scowled.

“Oh no, I make it my business.” Fixing his companion with a serious gaze the redhead sighed. “I need you at your peak right now. This is such an unpredictable time of upheaval, I need you focused, not lost in the past.” Looking away, uncomfortable Midorima stood with a bow.

“Thank you for the game. Maybe next time we can play with more time.”

“I'm serious Shintarō, please let this go and move on. RULE needs you.”               

Ignoring his leader's words as he exited the room and made his way through the long halls, Midorima held his head high regardless of the ache in his heart. It was bad enough that this kind of thing happened every once in awhile but more than that the fact that Akashi knew about it and his melancholy made it worse. Nodding to a small collection of guards standing before his quarters, he closed the door quickly before leaning back against the hardwood. He needed to keep busy, keep doing things, things to distract himself and to take his mind off the letter and the memories attached. Crossing the room and drawing back the curtains of his balcony windows, the tall angel slid open the door before stepping out in the cold afternoon air. Feeling the weight of the letter in his pocket, he withdrew it slowly. Unfolding the thick parchment with deliberate slowness, he held his breath as he read over the text. Nakatani had always had such neat, sure characters in his writing. It only made the content clearer and colder.

_ It's been some months since we've heard from him. He sends his sister home treats and presents, but other than that, we don't know where he is and what he's doing. Please don't worry it's not your fault. _

 

Except that it was his fault. It was all his fault. Leaving the youngster crying on his doorstep and fleeing into the night was no doubt a contributing factor as to why Takao had left the rookery. He'd been gone for years though, close to two decades and while it wasn't uncommon for young male angels to want to leave their home, Takao had been so well rooted in the community it was heart breaking to see him go. Keeping in contact with Nakatani, the healer had hoped and prayed that the young angel's tantrum would only be temporary. However now it seemed more and more unlikely he woudldn’t be returning home any time soon. Finishing the letter with a heavy heart, his fingers gripped the paper side to side before making the first tear, followed by another, then another. Ripping the letter up into tiny little pieces, a big gush of wind sent them scattering off the balcony and down to the earth. Turning on his heel, Midorima straightened his glass with a tilt of his chin. This childish pining had to stop. He had no claim or control over Takao, what the boy decided to do was that of his choice, it was not up to Midorima to say otherwise. Sliding the door closed with a firm click, he stared out at the developing city scape of Tokyo, his resolve made. He couldn't spend the rest of his life concerned over the actions of a child and his foolish needs, it was time to move on.                 

Teikō was a quickly developing metropolis. Once a temple dedicated to the pray and salvation of angels who were once worshipped as gods, it now stood as the home base for the Generation of Miracles and their households. While they themselves could not truly be called 'miracles' it was in fact a miracle Akashi had managed to unite them again under the same flag. They had fought together for many years, but power and hubris were a deadly drug and it had forced them apart with bitter memories, accompanying pain and distrust. But now, somehow the redhead had drawn them back together, working hard to establish RULE headquarters in Tokyo. With the Uncrowned Generals coming to the end of their reign, stepping up into a greater role was their future. It was hard to take on such a public role, but Akashi worked well with the human population of Tokyo and indeed Kise was highly skilled at public relation and would hopefully make the transition a great deal easier. Midorima’s job however was to build and develop the relationship between angel and human and this was best done through his speciality. Health and healing. With Akashi's permission he's kicked started his own project and research facility within the temple. This needed to be his focus, his everything. He'd lived alone for many years with little to no care about others and no dark haired youngster was going to change that.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic lives! I am just lazy! My bad! Please enjoy!

Trying his best to focus on his meal, Midorima took a sip of wine, casually using the glass as a shield and trying to sneak a look at his dining companions.

“I don't want to have to repeat myself Daiki, sit down and refrain from such vulgar talk at the table.” Hiding his smile behind a hand, Midorima was pleased Akashi quickly put down Aomine's behaviour as he was also the only one able to do so. Even the dark skinned angel's consort and kin seemed unable to control him and if they couldn't, someone needed to.

“What? I'm making a serious toast.” Sour faced, knife and fork in hand, the redhead didn’t appear impressed.

“A toast to magnificent breasts is not an appropriate toast.”

“Tits” Aomine said firmly, picking at his plate before offering his portion to Momoi. “I was toasting to magnificent tits.” Frowning as he reached around his consort, the golden eyed Kise speared a section of cured kingfish off Aomine's neglected plate aggressively.

“Unnecessary” the blond muttered with a mouthful. Staring at him, offended the dark skinned man shook his head with a scowl.

“What are we even here for Akashi? And why the fancy food and shit?”

 

Sighing as he put aside his cutlery, Akashi folded his hands neatly in front of him.

“Can't I simply invite us all to sit down for a perfectly civil dinner together?”

“No.” Quiet and silent until that point, Kuroko Tetsuya's wide blue eyes saw all without comment. “I am most intrigued.” Midorima himself would admit he was also a little confused as to the sudden and formal invitation. Seldom did the seven of them ever collect together and the fact Akashi had forgone inviting his consort was somewhat of a statement indeed. Sighing at their scepticism, the redhead took a long drink of wine.

“Fine, if I may get straight to the point we can all go home to our loved ones.”

“Aka-chin can I have your rice?” Pushing his plate towards the giant Murasakibara, Akashi held the table's gaze. 

“How are you enjoying Tokyo?” Narrowing his eyes at the strange nature of the question, Midorima waited for others to speak before saying his part.

“I like it.” Bright smiled and quick eyed, Kise looked around the table for back up. “It's much better than being locked up in Kaijō. Everyone is so nice here.” Falling into silence, he looked between Aomine and Akashi, suddenly worried. “Why? Are we leaving?” Looking to Kuroko and Midorima, the sharp eyed Emperor waited for their response.

“I like Tokyo” Kuroko said simply, pushing his remaining food around his plate as a distraction. “But I don't mind either way.” Trying to ignore his companion's melancholy tone, Midorima cleared his throat, intent on having his say.

“Tokyo is certainly the growing centre of industry and worth. It would make sense to remain here. However” he added quickly, watching Akashi's lips tilt up ever so slightly. “This is not our domain. This temple still remains under the jurisdiction of the Uncrowned Generals.”

 

Their mentors and senpai held much of the power in RULE and while the Generation of Miracles were called on more often than not for council and help, Midorima doubted they would be willing to have such powerful angels move in on their territory.

“The Uncrowned Generals are no longer fit to lead, we are to take their place.” The silence was deafening, the only sound that could be heard was the busy, buzzing traffic from outside and the wind whipping around the tall tower.

“Akashi-kun, please be careful of what you say-”

“You can not be fucking serious?” Eyes bulging, something close to terror on his face, Aomine shook his head wildly. “Do you want a war?” At the mention of war Midorima himself stiffened, conflict was undoubtedly his least favourite thing. And after so many years of angelic peace a war between such powerful factions would be devastating, especially coming out of some very great human losses in recent years.

“There will be no war,” the redhead said with calm clarity. “I have been in discussion and mediation with several of their members and together we have collaborated that a retirement is soon in their future.” Smiling ever so slightly, he clasped his hands before him. “Your input is greatly appreciated.” Unsure what to say or even do, Midorima found his mouth simply opening and closing without words. Akashi couldn't be serious? And yet everything he said wasn't in jest, he actually wanted to take control of RULE.  

“Not all of them though.” Picking up on the small detail their leader had brushed over, Midorima straightened his glasses. “Who has your support?” Pushing his short fringe back from his face, Akashi huffed.

“Nothing gets past you does it Shintarō?” _ It's why I'm here, _ the green winged angel thought with a sour look glancing around the table. Most of his comrades probably wouldn't question the redhead's explanation and would suffer for it later. It was better to put this whole foolish grab for power down now before someone got hurt.

 

“I have spoken to Mibuchi, Hayama and Nebuya and all have agreed to step down within the next year.” Looking to Murasakibara, Akashi snatched the near empty plate off the titan. “Atsushi can I trust you to talk to Teppei on the matter?” Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, the tall angel nodded.

“I will but I don't want to. Kiyoshi won't step down any time soon. Not now that he has Riko-chin and Jun-chin living here.” Face twisting in a frown, Akashi went to push the plate towards his companion, pausing just beyond his long reach.

“Then try to persuade him. I'm sure he'd much rather be living with his consorts and offspring in Seirin. Tokyo is no place for children.” Deep violet eyes glared back at the Emperor with fierce challenge and yet Murasakibara remained silent, taking the plate when prompted.

 

Sitting back further in his chair, Midorima kept his face at an expression of resting anger and distaste. There were few among them who could take on the Iron Heart and other than that there was the issue of...

“Hanamiya won’t move either.” Momoi had been silent up and until that point, but now spoke Midorima's mind. “He knows his place was only gained by sheer dumb luck.” Humming as if only just considering this Midorima was entirely unsurprised when Akashi offered a solution to that as well.

“Makoto is far simpler than Teppei. Shoichi will tell him he has to leave or just force him out.”

“You said no war” Kuroko cut in quickly. “I do not wish to fight Hanamiya or his household.” Neither did Midorima, unfortunately it would all come down to Akashi's order in the end.

 

“Don't fret Tetsuya. Makoto is deathly afraid of Shoichi, it won’t come to that.” Levelling his unnatural gaze at Aomine and Momoi, Akashi raised an eyebrow. “Can I trust you to make those arrangements within your household?” Looking between them, Momoi looked reluctant and Aomine looked confused but they both nodded. “Good” the redhead said with a smile. “We shall begin organisation as soon as we receive confirmation the Iron Heart and the Bad Boy will retire.” Going to stand the Emperor was stopped as Midorima cut in quickly, eyes blazing dangerously behind his glasses.

“Aren’t you being a little too hasty Akashi? I think you’re forgetting a very key factor of your plan.”

 

Pulling a thoughtful face, the redhead shrugged.

“My orders are absolute Shintarō, there is nothing more to consider.”

“What about us?” Kise had been oddly silent throughout the entire proceedings. Midorima had assumed he was focusing on the events and trying to follow what the hell was even going on, however looking at him now, he seemed to understand far more than anyone else. “I don't agree to this.” Swallowing thickly, the blonde looked to his consort for support. "I'm not ready to lead RULE." Scowling Akashi stood with purpose, calmly looking around the table at his gathered kin and comrades.

“We are the Generation of Miracles” he said softly, voice not raising a single decibel. “Together we are unstoppable.”


	8. Chapter Eight

If Midorima had learnt anything in his long years, it was that plans seldom went smoothly. The Generation of Miracles’ semi coup against their mentors worked only so well. No war Akashi had said and yet they now found themselves in the centre of one. It had been foolish, idiotic of them to assume their elders and betters hadn't been planning for their eventual betrayal. And while all, even the sturdy Kiyoshi Teppei had stepped down without a fuss, the sly and ever troublesome Hanamiya had slipped well beneath everyone's radar. They'd been so focused on the fight Kiyoshi might have kicked up, Hanamiya had slipped right through their fingers. And it was a grave mistake. Uprisings and revolts were popping up, not only in Japan but across Asia and some of the Western World. It was without a doubt one of the worst situations possible. Not to mention the casualties. All households were suffering losses and of course there was the matter of Kiyoshi. The smiling, angelic Iron Heart who'd fought _ for _ their cause rather than against it now lay crippled in bed away from the sun and refused visitors. Midorima had seen injuries like that in the past. The long disused art of maiming. Centuries before in the time of their parents and ancestors it would have spelt death. An angel that couldn't fly was easy pickings for rival clans or enemies. They'd never lived long. But now in these civilised societies there were no such risks. Not that it wasn't any crueller. A quick death may have been seen as a reprieve, rather than watching the rest of angel kind take to the skies while being grounded below. There was no greater torture. Thus the physician wasn't surprised when the gentle giant locked himself away.

 

Not that it would stop Midorima from working towards a cure, a something. He shouldered the guilt as much as all of them, had they been paying more attention it wouldn't have happened. Not that they had much time to feel anything other than exhaustion these days. There was once a time Midorima could stay awake for months on end, but there were only so many hours in the day and even the long, dragging hours of the night never seemed like enough. Akashi was working tirelessly with their foreign counterparts, proving their worth and merit within RULE. And while the Generation of Miracles were well known for their past endeavours, it had been some years since they'd all worked together and if they weren't careful that inexperience would show. On top of that the North American branch was coming down on them increasingly ruthlessly. The notorious Nash and Jason were putting down every approach Akashi made on an international stage. The redhead would manage however, either formal or underhanded, the emperor always got his way. Midorima himself had been put primarily in charge of local infrastructure, healthcare and finances. A position he was well adjusted to so long as he didn't have to meet too many people face to face. Thankfully Kise took on that role with a golden flourish and found his place within PR as if the title had been made for him. With the tower internally looked after by the surprisingly efficient Murasakibara, security was overseen by an increasingly paranoid Aomine, who in conjunction with Kuroko had taken to keeping Momoi occupied by file keeping and profiling.

 

She appeared content with the role but Midorima saw through the facade. Between her bizarrely meek acceptance and Aomine's lording, the intention was quite clear. Keep her locked up, keep her here, keep her safe. While not a reflection on Momoi herself increasing reports of females going missing were on everyone's mind and the fear was real. Many were returning to the skerries and rookeries. There was safety in numbers and in this trying time, no one was safe. Many a time Midorima had been tempted to put a message through to Nakatani, just to inquire about the safety and security of Shūtoku. But it was too risky to send letters or even call, the only safe mode of communication came from Akashi's long distance telepathy and Midorima was reluctant to ask for that help. Instead he threw himself into his work, slaving day and night to ensure everything would run as smoothly as it could. Finding their way during such a trying time was very much trial by fire. The mistakes made would not be repeated and thus made for a greater harmony in the coming years. Or as much harmony that could come from internal warfare and constant fear of attacks. Some years after Hanamiya's betrayal, a generation of human years later, Midorima and the Generation of Miracles were at home in their positions and in their power. Or as much as they could be. People still tended to tread on toes, brush wings and ruffle feathers but for the most part it was fine.

 

Sitting behind his desk in an office gifted and designed for him by Akashi, Midorima read over the increasingly troublesome reports concerning the rebels and their increasing boldness. It felt like they were leading up to something and as Kuroko noted in his report their lack of care for human and civilian casualties was truly horrifying. It boggled the mind how someone so well placed and so well prized to them was creating such trauma. Brought out of the terrors of the report via a knock on the door, Midorima was tempted to simply let it be. With this news and no doubt the mountain of paperwork that would follow he was in no mood for guests. However he wasn't given a choice as the door was near wrenched off its handles and a very pissed off Aomine stormed in, trailed by a worried looking Momoi.

“You got something to tell us?” Eyebrow raised as he straightened his glasses, the green winged angel folded his hands in front of him, waiting patiently. He'd learnt over the years to never admit anything in these circumstance, the accusation usually came out on its own.

 

Staring him down with dangerous blue eyes, Aomine all but growled. “I'm serious, this is no joke.”

“What have I done exactly?” Completely ignoring Aomine and looking to Momoi, Midorima watched her carefully. “This doesn't seem like a particularly friendly visit.” Looking between themselves, the faux siblings suddenly looked uncomfortable.

“Are you... um...” It was rare for Momoi to be reserved in her questions, this must have been something of high sensitivity.

“Are you fucking around? Outside of the tower?” Lips pursed in a thin frown, if this was some kind of joke Midorima was not amused.

“ _ Fucking around _ ?”

Running a hand agitatedly through his hair, Aomine cussed.

“Yeah, you know. Bumping uglies, shacking up, the vertical tango. Come on, you know,” making a vague hand gesture, the dark skinned angel made a pained sound.

“Mating” Momoi said finally, putting her kin out of his misery. “Are you mating with anyone outside of the tower?”

“I'm not mating period.” Midorima said, hoping his voice conveyed his level of disgust and offence. “Why would you ask such a question?” Gossip may have been Momoi's past time, but Aomine was surely far above all that nonsense.

 

Sharing a look, the pair's body language changed dramatically. Awkward and stiff, Momoi's voice was barely above a whisper.

“There's an angel in holding. One we picked up at the dockland raids and he _ knows _ you.” Wracking his brain as he thought over the information supplied, Midorima was still very confused.

“ _ Knows?” _ He questioned, putting the same emphasis on the word as the female had. Nodding Aomine looked strangely concerned.

“Yeah like things very few people would know.”

“Like how you only sleep with a nightcap.”

“And that thing with the glasses and the left hand.”

Sighing the green winged angel was growing very tired of this game.

“So it's someone who used to fight alongside us at some point or...” he paused, realisation suddenly dawning on him. “A spy?”

“Maybe, that's what we’re trying to work out.” Standing up from behind his desk, Midorima stared the pair down.

“Show me.”   
  
  


Flying out from the tower made for a moment of reflection and clarity. Fear of the unknown had been his utmost concern. Why would someone be taking an interest in him? He was probably the least important of all the Generation of Miracles in terms of ability and position. But then maybe they were all being watched and his dog squad was the first to be caught. Tōō had once been an old prison but now acted as the home base of RULE's military and internal police force. Headed by Aomine and his household, it was key in the fight against Hanamiya and his rebel forces. Coming in to land, Midorima followed Momoi's distinctive magenta wings through the security doors at the base of the tall gates. Above them the high walls grew into an almost bird cage like structure. Over five hundred metres tall the dome that surrounded the prison was near unbreakable, save for a select few individuals. It had been designed by Nebuya during his time in RULE and thus stood as his legacy. The inescapable angelic penitentiary of South East Asia. Midorima had only been there twice and that had been due to medical treatments for in fighting among the prisoners. Neither time had left him particularly shaken, however this time he was already nervous. This could be the beginning of the end of their organisation and just as they were beginning to gain momentum and find their feet.

 

Wandering down the long flights of stairs leading to the lower holding cells of the building, Midorima could hear his heartbeat pounding loud and fast in his ears. So deafening was the sound, he completely missed Momoi's question, startled somewhat when she took his hand.

“Mido-kun?” Recovering from his jump in record time, the tall angel straightened his glasses, bidding her politely to repeat her question. “It's just up ahead, are you okay?” He wasn't. But he wasn't about to plant seeds of worry in her mind either. The last thing they needed was their chief information broker paranoid.

“I'm fine” he replied with more calm than he felt. “I'll be happy when all this is over.”

Skipping along beside him, Momoi nodded sharply.

“Of course. And don't worry I'm sure it's nothing to worry about. Probably just someone from the old days like you said.”

“Maybe an old flame even.” Speaking up for the first time since they'd entered the facility, Aomine turned to look over his shoulder and grin at them. “Someone who's woken up along side you often enough to know your wake up routine.” Fighting down a blush, Midorima huffed. The word impossible sprung to mind. And while it wasn't common knowledge of his peers, Midorima remained one of the few Generation of Miracles not to be formally courted. He wasn't a prude of course, he was a man of medicine and knew how these things worked and in his darker hours yes he had given into his needs.

 

But he'd never had a consort or anything even close. At one time he was ashamed to admit, he might have hoped Akashi would fill those shoes. But when the redhead's terrifying other nature began shining through towards the end of the war, Midorima had learnt to fear him and that fear had never truly dissipated. Instead he threw himself into his field and research, honing his craft to help make a better world, to ensure others didn't suffer the way he had suffered. And up to this point it had worked, however now that could all be cast into doubt. Coming to a halt before a heavily guarded door, Midorima waited for Aomine to gather clearance before moving deeper into the prison.

“We separated him from the other prisoners just in case they were all in on something.” Walking down the empty rows of cells, Midorima kept his head high refusing to let the situation get the better of him.

“Whatever you think is best.” It had been some years since he'd had anything to do with interrogation and if he had it had been just to clean up his comrade's messes.

 

Turning a corner the trio came to stand before a larger cell. One either designed to hold many humans or a couple of very wedged together angels. At first glance it appeared empty, however as his eyes adjusted to the dim light, Midorima caught the silhouette of a figure sitting slumped in the corner. Rapping sharply on the bars of the makeshift cage, Aomine grinned as Midorima jumped.

“Hey, you still alive pretty boy? Come here a minute.”

“He's been very cooperative” Momoi said, coming to stand in front of Midorima with a smile. Feeling his cheeks warm as he recognised her stance and the purpose behind her action, the tall angel put a hand on her shoulder.

 

“It's okay Momoi, I'm not defenceless.” _ Just a little worried _ he thought sourly.

“Shin-chan?”

 

Freezing stock still, his body tense, it felt as it the floor had just fallen out beneath him. That voice, that name... it couldn't be... “Oi, Shin-chan. Tell them I'm not a spy or whatever.” Taking a step back as the figure stepped forward, the green winged angel wasn't sure what to do. The confused looks Aomine and Momoi were giving him didn't help either. But it was real, now and happening. It was most definitely Takao locked behind those bars. He looked a little different from their last ill fated meeting, his hair might have been a little longer and his pectoral feathers were now double in length, a merit that he was coming into adulthood. More than anything that was his eyes, bright and liquid silver. The same colour and curiosity that had enchanted him years ago. Except those were the eyes of an innocent child and these now belonged to their potential enemy.

“Kazunari Takao.” The healer said, trying his best to keep his voice level and cold. “Formerly of Shūtoku.” Writing this information down, Momoi looked between the two with quick eyes. “I was his teacher” Midorima followed up quickly lest she get the wrong idea. The last thing he needed was rumours floating about the temple of his illicit relationship with one of Hanamiya's spies. _ Possible spy _ he reminded himself. They hadn't really given the youngster much of a chance to talk.

 

“And the love of my life” winking at him from behind the bars, Takao laughed as he watched his mentor cringe. “Left me heartbroken and alone.”

“Nonsense” Midorima spat, embarrassed he even took the bait. “You were a child, you didn't even know what love was.”

“I was an adult under every other law but your own. Don't pin this on me.” Speechless, Midorima couldn't meet his companion's eye as he turned on his heel, heading back around the narrow corridor towards the exit. “Running away again Shin-chan? Always good to know you care.” Head down, wings itching with the desire to flee, the healer kept his head low, letting the numbness take over and erase the guilt and ache in his chest.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank y'all as always for all your lovely and kind comments. I miss KNB so much. And with the Extra Game movie coming out I feel like there is still so much to explore and enjoy. So please keep the fandom alive and keep loving these dumb basketball bratlings. 
> 
> Much thanks, bless.

It wasn't a surprise when Akashi paid him a visit. The surprise came in the question he posed.

“Do you have something to tell us?” Raising an eyebrow at his old friend, the question was remarkably close to Aomine's, no doubt meaning the two things were linked.

“I have many things to tell _ you.” _ He said with emphasis. “But none of them are relevant to your current concern.” Coming to stand before his desk, crimson gaze intense Akashi looked ready for a fight.

“Don't play with me Shintarō, you know how that ends.” His countless shouji losses were proof of that. But this wasn't a board game, this was real life. A real life they were both living and where failure meant more than bruised pride. “Tell me, is this linked to your letters from Shūtoku?” Shuffling awkwardly in his seat, Midorima gave a sharp nod. It was best to admit it now rather than having the Emperor read his mind later. He'd probably pull up all kinds of things best left forgotten, telepathy was never simple.

“He was a student of mine. And a patient during the epidemic.” Leaving it at that, the tall man hoped it would be enough to satisfy his leader. But of course not.

“You had a relationship with your student?” He could hear that Akashi meant no offence. But it had been a trying day and his emotions could only take so much.

 

Slamming his bandaged hands down on the desk, Midorima stood inhumanly quick, his aura unchecked and pained.

“I did no such thing!”

“Shintarō I believe you, it's alright.” The redhead's voice was soft, calm and coaxing. Midorima didn't believe it for a second.

“No it's not.” Taking off his glasses and rubbing a hand over his eyes, the healer choked back a sob. “It's not that simple.”

“Okay.” Now he was just digging himself into a hole, he needed to resolve this as quick as possible lest he incriminate himself further.

“He was a boy when I left and when I returned he was a man and...” Struggling over his words, Midorima was thankful for the lack of sight, making the admittance easier. “We had relations.”

“You kissed” Akashi corrected, cool as a cucumber. “And you said no and stopped it there.” Narrowing his eyes at the blurry outline of his friend, Midorima's blood boiled.

“You read my mind?” It was a heinous betrayal of trust and one Akashi had promised the Generation of Miracles he'd never impose on them. Shaking his head, Akashi almost looked hurt.

“No, I read his mind. And he's innocent of espionage by the way. Case of wrong place, wrong time.” Taking a deep breath and feeling a considerable weight lifted off his chest, Midorima sat back down. Crisis averted. “But he does love you. In all truth and with intensity.” Glaring up at his leader with a frown, the tall angel hoped his disdain came across as heavy as he hoped.

“He doesn't know what love is.” Coming to perch on the corner of the other angel's desk, Akashi looked anything but impressed.

“Well objectively he does.” Picking up his glasses and slipping them back up his nose, Midorima held his tongue.

 

For years Akashi had been cold, alone and broken in two. It took a brave man to try and piece that mess back together, but one had managed, a human at that and thus Akashi had gained his first and only consort. So of course the redhead knew _ everything _ about love now. Never mind the complexities or shift in power dynamic.

“He loves the idea of me.” The healer said slowly, thinking hard over his words lest Akashi find a weakness in his reasoning and attempt to exploit it. “He loves the age, the power, the...” gesturing to himself, Midorima struggled for words. “Height” he concluded with a nod. “But nothing more. He's too young to understand something as complex as love.” Raising a thin eyebrow, the redhead didn't look convinced.

“Children understand love. Babies clinging to their mother's breast understand love. Toddlers stumbling into their father's arms understand love. Love is not limited to age.”

“This love is” Midorima muttered, confused as to what part of this Akashi couldn't understand. “Children do not feel love until their mental capacity reaches a certain age. Likewise toddlers love whoever feeds them and offers them affection. That is the kind of love Takao feels, but not what he thinks he feels.” Looking thoughtful with a scratch of his chin, Akashi hummed.

“I wouldn't be so certain Shintarō. I have looked into his psyche, his inner thoughts and aspirations. He knows what love is.” Hopping off the desk and stretching, the redhead threw his old friend a sad look. “But I don't think you do.”


	10. Chapter Ten

Focusing on his work was borderline impossible, not with the amount of thought traffic racing through his mind. He'd spent years, literally years worried about Takao's location, his health, his standing in society. And now to know he was only a couple of floors down, comfortably accommodated in Aomine's household made his stomach roll. What was he supposed to do now? Ignore the youngster until he left? Hope that their paths never crossed? What if he decided to stay at Teikō and work within someone's household? He'd never be rid of him then. Or worse his instinctive, possessive nature might show through and he might have to force the youngster into his household regardless.

 

Dropping his pen to his desk and checking the time, he glanced out the window to confirm it was really that late. Where had his day gone? Had he really been that wrapped up in worrying about Takao that the day had just escaped him? Apparently as it had just passed nine thirty and he still hadn't eaten it had. Had it been any other day he would have just flown down to the kitchen himself and acquired something cooked at the dinner time rush. But running the risk of seeing his ex pupil again weighed too heavy on his mind. Instead he put a quick call through to Murasakibara's staff, pleased when they assured him of a prompt delivery without delay.

 

Hopefully he could scoff down the meal then lock himself away in his library for a couple of days or a week, longer maybe. Until Takao left entirely. It sounded childish and petty, but it was better than facing the ridicule and humiliation again. Head bent over his desk, the polite knock on the door barely roused him.

“Just over there please.” Looking up to ensure the instruction was followed through, his heart sank at the sight that greeted him.

“I missed you at dinner Shin-chan. Murasakibara baked this huge tray of Western desserts, they were so good. I think there's some here.” Oblivious to his ex teacher’s increasing internal terror, the dark haired angel lifted the cloche and peered inside. “Yup, and a side of red bean soup. You never change do you Shin-chan.”

 

_ Apparently not, _ the older male though, still too stunned to speak. “I finally met Kiyoshi-senpai.” Takao went on, stacking cutlery and glasses

“I remember you teaching us about the Uncrowned Generals but I never thought I was going to meet one. He's so tall.” Coming to sit on the corner of his desk, Midorima was surprised by how well he... fit. It was as if he matched the colour scheme of the office, his dark wings and hair the perfect contrast. “Are you okay Shin-chan? You look a little pale.” Wincing as a hand was waved in front of his face, the older angel knocked the hand away.

“Stop that. Thank you for the meal. You may leave.” Pulling the tray across the desk towards him, Midorima expected the youngster to hurry off. Instead he simply lounged along the desk, sharp grey eyes watching his old mentor.

  
“But Shin-chan we have so much to catch up on. Teikō is amazing and I want to know all about it.” Smiling at him, his grin cocky Takao looked content to wait the whole night for answers, much to Midorima's annoyance. Picking up his spoon and straightening his glasses, the healer sniffed airily.

“You are not welcome here. If you want to be treated as an adult you must understand restrictions and boundaries. And that starts with leaving me alone and returning to Shūtoku.” Supping the first spoonful of cold, thick soup, he ignored the pout the youngster was throwing at him, certain a dose of tough love would straight out this whole situation and hopefully leave him well enough alone. 

“But Shin-chan, I'm not returning to Shūtoku. I'm going to stay here.” Eyebrow raised, the green winged angel didn't even bother playing into his ploy, focusing on his soup. He'd said his piece, hopefully now Takao would get bored of loitering around and move off back downstairs. His threat of staying at the temple was a hollow one. No one was taking any new members in their households and unless he'd managed to make some kind of deal with the devil it was unlikely he'd be staying any longer than a week. “The Emperor is taking me on, I'll be working in the residential design area.”

 

Almost dropping his spoon in his bowl, Midorima was speechless. How? The other angel had been there less than a day and he'd already managed to snag a job. And with Akashi no doubt. Akashi... Remembering their somewhat heated argument from before the youngster's sudden employment wasn't such a mystery.

“He's doing it to get to me.” Harsh but honest, hopefully it would put the younger man off, enough to have him turn tail and run back home.

“Oh I know. His exact words were, 'this is not a hand out and your sole purpose in life is to bring light into Shintarō's life.” Leaning over the desk and plucking the neglected spoon from his soup bowl, the dark haired male licked the silverware clean. “You're stuck with me now Shin-chan.” Watching a pink, wet tongue licking along the bridge of the spoon, Midorima looked away with clenched fists. Curse Akashi and his meddling! This was all because of Furihata and his newly awaken heart. He was beginning to miss the old, empty hearted tyrant his companion used to portray.

 

“Well I am afraid to inform you that my life is bright enough. With or without you.” He'd expected the other angel to flinch or cringe or even turn away in bitter sorrow or disgust. Even if it hurt to say it, he didn't need this. Takao didn't need this. Neither of them needed this. Takao needed to go home. Back to the rookery where he belonged to better the lives of everyone around him. And Midorima needed to stay here and stabilised the temperamental group that was the Generation of Miracles. They had separate lives, separate goals, separate desires and they needed to separate as soon as possible. The longer Takao lingered, the harder it would be to part and even Midorima knew it would hurt. It already did.

  
“As that may be” Takao said, face calmly neutral. “The matter still remains that I am being paid to be here and I will do what I can to fulfilled that job to the highest standard of my ability. As I was taught. By you.” Snatching the tray up from the corner of the desk, head tipped up with cold superiority, Takao bowed slightly. “Good night sensei.”


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So [Spar Calcite](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Iceland_spar) is a real gemstone and it has some amazing properties! And while it does glow under UV light, I doubt it does so in such a magical sense as is depicted in this fic.

This was becoming too much, Akashi had far overstepped the line in inviting the youngster to stay at Teikō to begin with but having him stay within the healer's own quarters, that was taking things too far. Having returned from his horror shift with the hope of a quiet night to attempt some sleep and forget his troubles, the green winged angel was again confronted by his seemingly ever present menace. However this time the younger man seemed much less friendlier than their last meeting. Edging around the room while avoiding all eye contact, Midorima was secretly pleased when Takao gave an explanation on his presents. It was far easier then just awkwardly staring at each other for the next three hours.

“Akashi-sama said I was needed here” head down and reading over the files in hand, the dark haired man sighed. “I'm sorry.”

“Akashi is a law unto himself, it is generally not best to deify him.” Silver eyes flickered up for a moment and caught his gaze for a split second.

“Don't worry, it's only for the night, I'm leaving in the morning.” Perking up with sudden interest, Midorima narrowed his eyes.

“What happens after tomorrow?” Stretching as he sat up straight against the small table, Takao fought back a grin. Midorima was predictable and such a sticky beak, worse than some of the mothers at the rookeries.

“I'm leaving tomorrow, there is nothing keeping me here and I'd hate to be a burden on the hospitality of the Generation of Miracles.”

“You're not a burden” Midorima shot back quickly. “It is the goal and overall aim of RULE to ensure the safety and well being of all angels. Stay as long as you like.” Frowning at his words, the dark haired man looked none too impressed.

“That's not very fair Shin-chan. Telling me to stay while forcing me away. You're harder to read then a teenage girl. They're easier in fact.” Fighting down a blush and gritting his teeth, the green winged angel sighed. 

“Your protests are noted.”

 

Standing in silence for a time, the pair still couldn't seem to see eye to eye. Still standing tall and imposing by the door Midorima seemed content to stand there the entire night much to Takao's amusement. Standing up with a grunt, the young angel crossed the room with deliberate slowness, the last thing he needed was the Miracle panicking about being jumped.

“It's a strange keepsake.” Shadowed green eyes looked confused for a moment but as he followed the other man's gaze, he did indeed blush this time.

“They were a lucky item, Oha Asa said so.”

“They were a precious treasure of a child you kept and never returned.” Reaching out and picking up the nearest stone Takao chuckled. “I actually forgot about them for years, it wasn't until you left I remembered. They weren't in your house when I moved in so I assumed you'd gotten rid of them.” Tossing the pebble up and down lightly, he looked to his ex mentor. “Do you know what makes them special?”

“Spar Calcite” Midorima said, pushing himself off the wall and crossing the room. It was unnerving to be so close to the young angel, but he was being rude otherwise. Not that he should have cared, it was his home, he shouldn’t be feeling awkward or uncomfortable. “They're part of the same mined river and as such glow when together but fade when apart.” One of nature's true miracle, a chemical reaction when removed from its counterparts. Rare and well kept, young Takao's treasure was a real find indeed. “You can have them back if you want.”

 

Snorting as he shook his head, the dark haired man smiled.

“Thanks for the offering Shin-chan, but I don't really have any need for a bag of rocks at the moment.” Humming as he slid in closer, Midorima pointed to the rock nestled in his companion's hand.

“Just that one then. It is yours afterall.” Eyebrow raised, Takao looked suspicious.

“Why? Is it my lucky item.” Shrugging the tall man sighed before moving back to the low table and scanned the documents scattered atop the surface.

“It might be in the future, I can't foresee the will of Oha Asa.” Chuckling as he sat down opposite the other man, Takao began stacking the papers.

“I remembered coming home one day with pockets full of raw cotton, all fluffy and white and my mother freaking out because she couldn't figure out where the hell it'd come from. Do you remember?” Smile playing on his lips, Midorima did indeed remember. Scorpio had been bottom of the rankings that day and young Takao had struggled throughout the day. Tripping over the second he was in the door, losing his lunch to an eager and fearless bird and failing two tests. Rather than bring the little boy down further he'd offered him a handful of cotton, his youngster lucky item for the day. As with all things involving the wise Oha Asa-sensei, the rest of the day had been considerably brightened by the simple gesture.

“I remember, did you get in trouble?” A toddler with pockets full of cotton sounded like a right pain.

“Nope, once I explain it was a gift from you she completely brushed it off.” He smiled. “Everyone really respected you.”  _ Respected.  _ Wincing, a change a topic was in order or else a whole flurry of ill history would settle in between them and make this whole situation impossibly harder.

“You're dealing with the kitchen accounts?” Pointing at the paper, Midorima was confused and saw the discussion as a good out.

“Kiyoshi-senpai asked me to check a few things. Apparently the Titan is not well known for his skill with numbers.” That was a half truth. Murasakibara was far cleverer than he let on. It was easier to play the dumb gentle giant, he got his way more often then.

“You're good with numbers?” Wracking his brain and desperately trying to remember how well his ex student and done in maths, the green winged angel came up a total blank.

“I was in charge of Shūtoku’s accounts for years.” Puffing out his chest with a proud smile, he left the stack of documents at the table's edge. “Nakatani said it was because of me we handled the refugees influx so well.” Giving him a genuine smile, Midorima resisted the urge to reach out and tussle the youngster's hair. It would have been an innocent praise once but now it felt too personal, too intimate.

“Nakatani always speaks so highly of you. You're very missed there, you won't return?” The proud smile promptly slipped from the other man's face, a scowl darkening his sharp features.

“And rot away in the rookery? I don't think so, the real world is so much more appealing thank you very much.” Standing suddenly, he stared his ex teacher down with those bright, quicksilver eyes. “You have a bathroom here Shin-chan? I can still smell whatever disinfectant they used at the prison in my hair.” Pointing down a small hall and giving direction, Midorima watched forlornly as the youngster stormed away.

 

It shouldn't have been a surprise, it was clear his companion didn't want to return home, however in this dangerous day and age having the youngster locked away at home would certainly put his mind at ease. But why the hell should he care? Some kind of lingering feeling of patriarchal pride and possessiveness? He had no legitimate claim or sway over what Takao did and yet his heart ached at his anger and loss. Why couldn't the younger man just be submissive and demure enough to the listen to the council of elders and betters? Shaking his head as he thought over the foolish question, Midorima knew the youngster’s disregard for authority was one of the reasons he admired him so much. Admired... that didn't sound right. Once upon a time he would have said love, however that word was so tainted in his mouth it didn't feel right. But that didn't stop it from growing, developing and blossoming in his once ice cold heart. One day and he was feeling like this, any more and Midorima wasn't sure he could take it. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise to have the youngster leave. Sighing as he rubbed his tired eyes, the Miracle was half tempted to just return to his office. Staying there the night and finishing up paperwork seemed a fair more enjoyable alternative to sitting here awkwardly staring at each other and ignoring the other's presence. 

 

Moving down the hall and stopping at the bathroom door, fist risen to knock, Midorima knew he should at least give Takao the courtesy to telling him he was leaving. He might wait up all night otherwise and that would no doubt push their already torn relationship to new measures. As annoying and wrong as his advances were, the healer did generally feel for the youngster, even if what he felt was still somewhat fuzzy. But appreciation was certainly part of it. And of course he didn't want to hurt his ex student's feelings. He was cold by nature but not a monster.

 

Pausing as he moved to tap, his knuckle barely brushed the surface of the wood as a moan echoed out from within. Frowning as he cocked his head to the side and attempted to deduct the source of the sound, Midorima took a large step back as realisation hit him. It wasn’t a pained moan, nothing even close, it was a sound so very similar to when they’d kissed in Shūtoku **.** A sound that had burnt its way into his very conscious. Hearing it again, loud and with greater intensity, Mido could only stare. What was he supposed to do in this situation? Tell him off? Go in and physically stop him. What the hell was he even doing? 

_ You know what he's doing,  _ a tiny voice in the back of his mind whispered. Swallowing thickly and refusing even to acknowledge the possibility, Midorima clung to the image of the small boy with big eyes, innocent and endearing. That was Takao, his Takao, the little one he remembered fondly and had spent many a long year worrying about.

 

This, whoever it was, locked in his bathroom, moaning lewd and loud was in no way his kin. Gritting his teeth and staring daggers at the door, the healer was on the knife's edge of a very important decision when the sound suddenly stopped. The silence throughout his quarters was deafening, the dull noises from outside the only thing breaking up the sound of his own breathing. Had Takao noticed his presence? Or had the youngster... finished? Shuddering at the idea and turning swiftly on his heel, Midorima calmly walked back down the hall, footsteps feather light and silent. There was a large part of him that felt almost guilty at the possibility of getting caught, but that was quickly replaced with a feeling of anger and indignation. How dare the young angel make him feel guilty in his own home. If anyone should be feeling bad it should be Takao, where at the brat been raised, in a barn? 

Exiting his quarters via the balcony, his only outlet now was flight. The freedom and solitude of the open air, high above the clouds. It was also one of the few places Takao would be unable to track him. Shooting upwards and pushing through the chill of the late night cloud cover, he danced about the twilight sky with a keen gaze and blood pumping. This whole situation was far too confusing, his feelings and nerves in a set of shambles. No one was worth this trouble, not even a dark haired sweetheart with a kind heart and the eyes of a hawk. The sooner Takao left Teikō, the better.


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOW WATCH THE RATING JUMP! (･´з`･)ゞ

Shin-chan was far too potent. Tall and stiff he was larger than life in a way Takao had never seen replicated. It was mysterious, beautiful and all he wanted was the other man. His affection. His touch, his power, his kisses, his wrath, he wanted everything Midorima had to offer. But of course everyone always wants the thing they can't have. He knew the older man wouldn’t come easy, but he'd always held out hope that he'd come around. Wake up to his true feelings and understand the love and passion offered. That hope however, that beautiful childlike hope was now collapsing down around his ears. Shin-chan would not, even after so many years would not budge. Takao had been sure that leaving the refuge and guilting the other man into admittance would work. However after his many a year absence he just felt childish and without a single result to prove his worth. The only thing this proved if any was the truth of his mentor’s care. Very little it seemed. Never once had he looked for, asked after or even inquired on his whereabouts.

 

Any remaining hope he had in gaining the older angel’s affection was quickly being dashed. Time and time again he'd lay his heart out to Shin-chan only to have to broken. There was only so many repairs he could make, only so many times he could forget and forgive. Maybe giving up was the best option, the best way to move on and get on with his life. But it was barely possible, Shin-chan’s love had been his motivation for so many years, without it how was he supposed to go on? It would have just been easier to lay down and die. Fate however seemed to have different ideas and just as Takao seemed to be moving away from the memories and desires of his unrequited love, things took an interesting turn.

 

He'd been working a job alongside some other angelic outcasts. Those who refused to bend to the whim of RULE and who lived beyond the boundaries of their care and order. Although their lives were never easy and regularly in danger, it was a job, a distraction and something else beyond his longing and pain. Initially Takao had hoped to be grouped in with a bunch of tough muscle, to act as a rough looking bodyguard to some shady human politicians and businessmen. But apparently his lack of height and boyish good lucks didn't fly well with those looking for a barking but not necessarily biting guard dog. Never mind he'd once been captain of a Skydancers squad, with his sword skills rivaling that of his instructors and the ability and he held an actual desire to use guns. Looks were everything apparently, even in the dark underworld.

 

Instead he'd been put to work stacking crates and sent out to watch out for cargo ships as the came into the harbour at Odaiba. Rival businesses or sometimes even the government would try and intervene with certain shipments arriving and departing the harbour. Takao acted like an early warning system, ducking in, out and around the big ships and reporting back to his superiors. Whether it was the right or wrong thing to do seldom mattered. He never saw the end result of his sins and cared little for them. He wasn't hurting anyone directly and keeping busy was his overall goal. It also served another purpose, one he'd certainly never shared with his employers or betters. In his youth he'd been blessed with an impressive length of sight, something his father and elder had dubbed a 'Hawk Eye'. At the time he'd been immensely pleased, it just made him a step closer to being like his hero and beloved. Shin-chan had once been known as the Sniper, his ability to never miss a shot legendary and key to the Generation Of Miracles winning many a hard fought battle.

 

His Hawk Eye came surprisingly in handy during his brief nautical scouting career. It also became more attuned. Takao started to see things without actually looking at them, around the hulls, out in the open ocean, across the distant sea. Work was more like training, honing his skill until he could use it in a real situation of use and importance. Or for once he returned to Shūtoku. He had no doubt he'd return to his native home, however it would be later rather than sooner. Although his longing for his family and community remained, he was still too unsettled, too angry and hurt to return. He could do no good there in his current state. A constant downer, that wasn't what was needed. But he wasn’t ready to return to his interactive, pinnacle role yet. There was nothing driving him any more, his actions, status and worth hadn't won over Shin-chan, why should he ever bother?

 

And yet as the tides turned, fate changed his hard worked path, crossing his with Shin-chan's yet again. It was weak of him to admit he was scared, getting snatched up in the middle of the night by tall men, bagged up and brought to a prison under the charge of treason. What else was he supposed to do? He heard the word Teikō and immediately heard salvation. Shin-chan was at Teikō, there was no way his ex mentor, no matter how mad would leave him locked up. Unless it was to teach him a lesson. Luck had been on his side that day, but the very recognized figure of Aomine Daiki had greeted him in his next interrogation. The Ace was well known as the most prominent, powerful warrior of the Generation Of Miracles. Unstoppable and oozing dominance, the dark skinned man appeared surprised by his polite words and calm manner. What kind of things were Teikō getting involved with? Throwing around the words like spy, treason and war, how was his beloved Shin-chan mixed up in it all? His teacher had hated all things violent, he hadn't even let them play with toy swords in his class. Times were a'changing. Seeing said teacher for the first time Takao struggled to keep it together. The thing, the person, the miracle he desired the most standing just out of reach. Locked behind bars and watching Shin-chan from the inside looking out was a pretty good metaphor for their entire relationship. Heavy bars between them, the older man locked away just out of reach. It was like his heart was breaking all over again. And none of their following interaction had been all that positive.

 

Taking the opportunity to flee was a welcomed one. Locking himself away in the lavish bathroom, Takao promptly sat with back to the door, wings curled about him protectively. Why did he have to be so stupid? Why did his heart ache, jump and skip a beat when the other man was around? Why couldn't he just push aside his love, fears and desire like he'd done so many times before. Things should be far easier. Wiping a hand over his eyes, he growled at the tears dripping down his face. He stood with purpose and pulled off his clothes. Spending time in the prison was enough to scare most youngster's straight, more than that it actually stunk enough to strip paint off the walls and Takao could still smell it on himself. That was embarrassing, meeting the Generation Of Miracles while reeking of piss and trash.

 

The wide tiled shower and bath was a rare prize. It had been years since he'd soaked in an actual bath and the shower was thankfully wide enough to spread his wings and give them a good wash. Within his small harbor bound apartment his shower had been built for humans, making it difficult to actually squeeze in and clean off. Had he been any taller he would have had some serious issues. Chuckling as he imagined Shin-chan trying to cram himself inside, Takao washed quickly and set about drying off with a shuffle of his great wings. Patting his feathers dry and looking around for a laundry shoot, he wondered if it was worth his ex mentor's rage if he emerged naked. His clothes stunk and were a little torn where Aomine's household had knocked him around a bit. Locating a laundry basket and tossing the towels inside, the dark haired man paused suddenly.

 

The cleaner's mustn't have been on strict laundry instruction as the basket was full of shirts and a couple of pairs of slacks. This really was Shin-chan's personal quarters, he didn't share it with his household as many did, it was only him, locked away from the world, just like always. Heading RULE hadn't seemed to change that. Pulling out the towels and sorting through the basket, Takao's hands trembled as he held a plain, boring gray shirt at arm's length. This would surely be better than coming out naked, even if it was just for a little while, until he could find something a little more fitting. Taking a quick glance over his shoulder, he took a short breath before pulling the shirt on. Of course it was too big, hanging down around his thighs, but it was better than nothing. Running his hands down the front and smoothing out the wrinkles, Takao shivered. It had a lovely pre worn feel to it. Like a favorite pair of pajamas. And the smell. Putting the collar to his nose and inhaling deeply, the youngster stifled a moan. It was something so familiar and earthy, a smell particular to Shin-chan and only Shin-chan.

 

When his teacher had fled the rookery all those years back, Takao had been near inconsolable. He'd cried every night and refused to leave his room. Cranky and tired, he couldn't sleep and had suffered for months until his mother had taken the intuitive to find a solution. A solution which came in the strangest form. When Shin-chan left he'd taken only the bare necessities and much had been left behind. During his teary fits of rage and confusion, Takao would fly to Midorima's cottage just to be surrounded by his things. It calmed him, settled his fear and often his parents found him napping in his old teacher's bed. So they established a solution that was both moving, clever and considerate. His mother, a famed seamstress within the rookery had stitched together a blanket comprised of Midorima-sensei shirts. Looking back Takao had to chuckle, it was pretty weird but it had settled him and he'd slept with that blanket well into adolescence. He only stopped when it literally began disintegrating. Even though years had faded the original smell of the owner Takao still remembered it fondly. However fond was not the feeling currently provoked in him. Looking down sheepishly, the tingles in his groin confirming his fears, the young angel groaned. How could he walk out there now? Sporting a massive boner and wearing Shin-chan's shirt, the trouble he'd get in. Worse then that would be the look of disappoint he'd get from the older man.

 

Taking a deep breath and trying desperately to push aside the desire growing in the pit of his stomach, Takao bit his lip hard, hoping the pain would help subside his little problem. It didn't. Instead as if prompted by the pain, his cock swelled painfully larger. Rolling his eyes in frustration, the dark haired man squared his resolve before putting hands to his own flesh, stroking softly. Why the hell did it feel so good? In here of all places. Feeling his heart speed up, clenching tight and shoulders stiff, Takao rolled his wrist sharply, unable to catch the moan as it escaped his lips. It was Shin-chan. This was all his fault! Why did he have to smell so good? Why did his bathroom have to be warm and damp, the perfect atmosphere for some light petting. He just had to be quick and quiet about it. Sitting down on the lid of the toilet and leaning back against the cisterns he bit his lip none too gently. He was already impossibly hard, hopefully this time it would actually prompt the right reaction. Hand working his cock hard, he was successfully managing to keep his panting and breathless moans to a minimum. Until he heard footsteps. Pausing for a second, heartbeat throbbing in his ears Takao waited with baited breath. What if Shin-chan walked in and saw him like this? Sweaty, damp and half naked, cock in hand and bent over the toilet cisterns. The embarrassment would be so secondary to the excitement. The thought alone had him shivering with intensity and desire, maybe it'd be the jumpstart the older man needed. He wouldn't be able to see him as a baby anymore, not after seeing him like this.

 

Spreading his legs a little wider, flushed and waiting, Takao frowned as the door didn't open. Pouting a little and stepping up to the challenge, he'd lure the older man in by all means necessary. Gripping his cock harder and pumping quick and sure, the dark haired man tossed his head back and moaned. The sound echoed around the acoustic bathroom, sounding lewd and sexy even to his ear. Hopefully Shin-chan would think so too. Thrusting his hip up into his fist, Takao panted hard, volume increasing by the second. His palm was practically saturated by this point, pre cum straining the front of his borrowed shirt, turning the dark gray to a near black. Catching sight of the mess, he moaned again wishing desperately his specialist vision worked through doors. Even just imagining the older angel's face was enough to have his balls drawing up tight, pleasure increasing to the point of oragsm. Any moment now, any second he’d walk in. Rubbing the pad of his thumb over the sticky crown and taking a deep inhale of the scents and smells around him, Takao felt him coming apart, spilling hot and sticky onto his borrowed shirt with a final long, loud moan.

  
_Come on Shin-chan,_ he begged, staring at the door with burning eyes. _Let me show you how much I've grown._ Licking his lips and bathing in the delicious afterglow, Takao waited and waited. Straining his ears and desperately trying to hear anything beyond the door and pounding heart, he frowned. Taking a shaky step away from the toilet and staggering to the door, he yanked it open with erotic content. Like Shin-chan would be able to resist him like this, he'd get down on his hands and knees if need be. Anything for his unrequited lover. Pulling open the door with a flourish, the youngster put on his best sad face, pouting with eyes wide and wet. Unfortunately his theatrics were wasted as an empty hall greeted him, cold and dark. Glancing down to the living area, it to was empty. Panicking and dashing through the length of Midorima's quarters half naked, cum staining the front of his shirt and thighs, Takao eventually collapsed in the older man's bedroom. Falling to the floor with a sob, the dark haired man pulled his wings up tight around him with a sniffle. Shin-chan wasn't here, he never had been. The healer had probably up and fled the moment Takao had hopped in the shower. Feeling the sticky rub of his shirt against his stomach, he felt dirty and a little ashamed. What a stupid idea! Shin-chan was the most stubborn creature on the planet, there was no way he was going to get all lovey dovey over his ex student jacking off in his shirt. Cursing out loud as he struggled to step up and find his feet, the youth tramped back to the bathroom before snapping the shower on full and collapsing in a heap under the spray.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

He wasn't asleep, not really. He was simply dozing with his eyes closed, but to a human or very inexperienced young angel he might very well look asleep. It was probably why Furihata ignored him and walked straight to the refrigerator. Angels generally didn't need to eat every day. A leftover survival feature from the long distant past. Gluttons like Murasakibara ate every three hours without fail, although that had less to do with hunger and more to do with compulsion. Likewise Furihata wasn't eating because he was hungry, no doubt he was simply trying to hold on to the lingering memory and routine of humanity. Made angels were truly an amazing development and although rare and few in number they were interesting to study and sometimes even tease.

"Good morning Furihata-kun, I assume you slept well?" Watching the nondescript man jump and turn, his still new, weak wings flared up on instinct. 

“Midorima-sama!” Holding a teacup to his chest and looking around wildly, the young angel exhaled visibly as Akashi emerged from the hall leading from the bedroom. “Sei, we have guests.”

“Yes we do.” Narrowing his eyes with his head cocked to the side, the redhead crossed the room, slow and confident. “And why would you be here Shintarō?” 

 

Pulling himself up and out of the chair he’d settled in for the night, the healer stretched and yawed. 

“My quarters had an unwanted guest last night, I needed to relocate.” Fixing his Emperor a stern gaze, he left out much of his displeasure. “Yours was the only door unlocked.” That was a lie. He’d finished his midnight flight, a little put out and wings aching and headed straight for Akashi’s apartments. Akashi had gotten him into this mess and to hell with him just letting it go. And he didn’t really want to return to his office, it would be too easy for Takao to find him if the youngster went looking for him.

“I see. That’s a shame? Can we offer you breakfast? Atsushi usually send something up around seven thirty.” Giving him a frosty look and politely declining,

Midorima did take up a nervous offer from Furihata for a coffee. Caffeine was a delicious saviour in these such times, just giving a little kick when needed. 

“Did Kazunari tell you about his new job offer?” Pacing to the wide window and staring out over the cityscape, the green winged angel shook his head. 

“We didn’t have much of a discussion.” Again he simply left his words hanging in the air, letting the implication and aggressive atmosphere grow. 

“A shame” taking a seat at a large table and beckoning Furihata to stop fiddling with the coffee machine and come join him, the redhead shook out his sleep cramped wings. “He’ll be doing some infomation collection for Kuroko.” Watching the tall man closely Akashi put his arm around his consort’s shoulders and dragged him in closer. “He’ll have the protection of Teikō in case he runs afoul of the rebel forces and he’ll have a home and refuge here if he ever requires it.” There was the smallest twitch in Midorima’s wings, the only indication he was even listening. “He seemed thankful and said he would get to work first thing this morning, I’m surprised he didn’t talk it over with you.” 

 

Turning from the window and starting on his cup of coffee, the tall angel avoided his grand leader’s eye in lieu of inquiring with Furihata about his studies. Whatever Akashi was playing at and trying to prompt out of him, he’d be severely disappointed. Midorima had had the whole night to reign in his confused and mixed feelings about Takao, he was pretty much dead inside by this point. “Will you say goodbye to him before he leaves?” Catching the redhead’s eye with a glare, the healer tipped his chin up and refused to back down. 

“Takao may do as he pleases, I don’t care what he does.”

  
  


Sneaking off the moment some of the kitchen staff emerged with their breakfast offering, Midorima worked his way back to his quarters, heart rate increasing as he slowly approached the door. Maybe Akashi would be right and he’d be gone, or maybe the youngster would still be waiting there and doing lewd things in his bathroom. Pushing the thought aside as he nodded to a trio of guards at the entrance of his quarters, he strode into his apartment without apparent care and with a confidence he didn’t feel. 

Silence.              

His quarters were empty, cold and looked completely unused. Searching through the halls, bathroom and bedrooms he came up blank. Takao was gone, just like Akashi had promised. Coming to stand in the living area, heart heavy and limbs achy, Midorima stared around at the clutter with sore eyes. His eyes came to rest on the Spar Calcite, the precious treasures of a child he’d kept for years. Counting out the pebbles, head bent and eyes watering, he smiled. 

 

In all his years of owning these particular specimens they’d always looked the same. A bright and luminance green even in the dim light of the morning their unnatural light usually shone bright. But right now they took on a whole other dimension, a new dull green, like faded glass that had spent many a year in the wash of the ocean. Alone, that was what caused this. One of their kin stones were gone, alone and without them. Forcing aside the heart breaking metaphor of the geology, Midorima felt the tiniest spark of something alive and bright burn within him. They had something, something shared despite all the mess between them, something small but important. It was a start.                           

  
  


Takao wasn’t sure if this was such a bright idea. But he’d been seldom very good at distinguishing between the two. An idea or an opportunity like this was only arrived every so often and it was one he was eager to undertake regardless of the possible risk and trouble. It was amazing how quickly things could change. Only yesterday he’d been panicking about being labeled a spy, but now he was reveling in the title. Although Akashi hadn’t necessarily said ‘spy’ the word he’d substituted with was ‘information broker.’ It thankfully sounded just as cool and after the hell of a night he’d had he was happy to flee the moment the sun rose and report to his new employer. 

An employer that apparently didn’t seem to exist. Coming back to the quiet little apartment block settled on the corner of the docklands just before the city began to build up into high rises and he quickly tracked down the man who signed his paychecks, intent on seeking out some answers. 

"I am your boss." Hara was a tall, wiry gentleman whose hair fell neat and long over his eyes. It was kind of daunting talking to the man at the best of times but now with his brand new status hanging over him, Takao’s heart beat a little faster and he was almost sweating.   
"Yeah you’re this regions but what about the head honcho, al captain, the big boss. Surely there's a head to this pyramid, I mean unless it's a reverse funnel scheme." An eyeless gaze settled on him with unsettling intensity, Hara moving in closer.   
"Where'd you say you ran off too again?" Playing along with the made up, bullshit of a story he'd thought up Takao smiled at him, hoping it seemed believable. "You had a different job offer or something?" Cocking his head to the side, faking confusion, the young angel eventually shook his head.   
"Oh no no-"  
"You want a raise?" Opening his mouth then closing it slowly, speechless, he was cut off as Hara pushed on. "I can offer a different job with higher pay, but the hours are shitty and you won't be allowed to just skip out whenever you feel like it." Nodding with eager eyes, this avenue might lead to a whole new level of players. 

 

It'd certainly earn him a good couple of points with Akashi and then maybe Shin-chan. Visibly flinching and pushing the thought aside, he focused on the details of his new job, the location and his first training shifts. "You'd better go get some rest now, it's pretty demanding work and the first shift is the hardest. If you can make It through the first night, you'll nail the job." Forcing a smile and a nod, he tried his best to ignore the ominous sounding description. It was all for the greater good he reminded himself, walking the familiar path back to his apartment. RULE. The greater good... laughing humorlessly as he collapsed back onto his tiny bed, he dug around in his pocket. Pulling out a tiny shard of Spar Calcite, he stared at it with watering eyes. Who was he kidding? He couldn't give two flying fucks about RULE, their mission or whatever they were trying to prove. He cared about Shin-chan. Getting to see him again, even if it caused him pain, it was like a compulsion, like an addiction. He'd gone so many years without him, straight up cold turkey. But the small, single taste... he had fallen back deep, well and truly in love.   
  
Not that it mattered of course. Shin-chan had yet again rejected his feelings, why he even took Akashi up on this offer was a mystery. Rolling onto his side and tucking his knees up close to his chest, he sniffed and brushed away the tears. Now was not the time for crying. Now was the time for sleep, whatever the future held, whatever path he chose it was far better faced with some rest.    
  


  
This wasn't a dream. Of that he was certain. Instead Takao's mind immediately assumed drugs, hallucinogens and Hara was probably behind it. He'd be found out or ratted out, this was his punishment for spying and he hadn't even discovered anything cool yet.   
"Be at peace Kazunari, this is merely an impression I'm delivering to you." Sitting up, no longer on his miniature trundle bed, Takao now found himself on a rocky outcrop, a craggle of a cliff hanging far over the ocean. It was beautiful, dangerous, the exact place an angel would call home. Untouchable to mankind and secluded. Turning back from the ocean, Takao frowned at the small redhead standing just a way off. His dark wings caught the wind whipping around them, making him appear all the more larger and imposing.  
"I'm sorry" the young man mumbled, unable to meet those piercing eyes. "I haven't found anything yet."   
"I know." Taking a seat on a grassy noll, the only grass growing on the high peak, Akashi gestured for him to sit. "If I want to know anything within your psyche please be advised I will just take it. This interaction is not required,"   
"Oh" sitting down stiffly and frowning, Takao wasn't sure how okay he felt about his mind just being picked over at Akashi's fancy. That was just rude. "Well what are we here for?" Looking out over the ocean again, he had to admit the view was gorgeous, rivalling any of the natural wonders he'd seen during his travels.   
"To be blunt?" Waiting for the young man to nod, the Emperor went on without a pause. "Love knows no bounds and your heart is a clear indicator of that." He stopped, letting his words sink in. "Your love for Shintarō is limitless, that's a gift." Shuffling his shoulders uncomfortably, Takao sighed.   
"Yeah I know, not that it means much." What did Akashi want from him? The miracle could already reach straight into his heart and mind and measure the depths of his love, why did he have to keep bringing it up? It wasn't like he was going to forget, no matter how much he wanted to.   
"It's a gift Kazunari, don't squander it. I know Shintarō can be... difficult. But he has a good heart and he does love you, even if he doesn't understand it yet."   
  
Picking aimlessly at a handful of turf and sighing, Takao wasn't convinced.   
"He loves me like a child, a son. That's all. He just can't get over all this." Gesturing to himself, he shook his head. "If that's all the love he has to offer I'm not sure if I want it."   
"It's not" the redhead said lightly. "Trust me, I've known Shintarō Midorima the miracle sniper for many, many long years. And never has he ever been this infatuated, caring and smitten with another being." Standing up with the most inhumane, angelic grace, he brushed himself and pointed down the cliff. "Shintarō probably seems very old to you but to me he's still a little fledgling with a girl's eyelashes and a filthy mouth. Sleep well Kazunari and good luck with your investigation, we look forward to your results."   
  
Watching the Emperor fade as a shimmering mirage against the skyline, Takao jumped as he heard laughter echoing up from the cliff face. Peering over the edge, he spread his wings and balanced on the wind. Below on a ledge he'd previously ignore or hadn't noticed was a gathering of small angels. Pre teens, small and vulnerable, soft and gentle and with wings all the colours of the rainbow. 

“No one will want to play against you Aomine-kun if you keep hogging the ball.” Hanging back low over the cliff, there was a small part of Takao that worried the youngsters would be able to see and interact with him, but this was not his memory and as he moved in closer, gliding down the cliff with a hop skip and a jump he landed between the group without so much as rustling a feather. 

“You just need to learn to catch up Tetsu, maybe when you grow up a little more you’ll be able to keep up with the big boys.”

“Daki, that’s not funny. Tetsu-kun plays fine, you’re just the one who takes things too far.” 

“Momocchi’s right, you need to learn to share.” Staring around at the gathering with wide eyes and jaw slack, Takao couldn’t help but laugh. The grand Generation of Miracles, nothing more than a squabbling much of children. This was not something everyone ever got to see, this tiny, sacred moment in their history and the dark haired man was privileged to even get a glimpse. Gazing around at the gathering his eyes fell on a skinny boy, smaller than the others in width but gaining steadily in height. 

“Shintarō, what do you think we should do with Daiki’s hoarding ways?” Young

Akashi was exactly what he’d expected, neat, small and calm, his eyes were keen and all seeing, nothing like an actual child. It was ery and Takao hoped desperately the redhead wasn’t still in his head listening. 

“Aomine needs to learn to share.” Unable to hold back the laughter, the dark haired man committed the image before him to heart. His Shin-chan, his adorable little Shin-chan wasn’t speaking to the group, not really. Instead he used a puppet on his hand to convey his thoughts, something akin to a frog with a wide mouth and little hands. Takao in fact recognised this technique, it was one he’d and Nakatani had used in the past with shy children or those who struggle to speak in groups or public. It gave them a means to talk without consequence or fear of ridicule, who’d have known the great healer of the Generation of Miracles had been such a shy little boy. 

“I’m going to throw that frog off this cliff one day.” Growling as he crossed his arms and glared at the gathering, the dark skinned Aomine turned his back on the group and jumped from the ledge. “You’re all terrible and I hate you and I’m never inviting you to play ball again.” Watching on in surprise and awe, Takao found himself surrounded by a flurry of feathers and colors. The small crowd of youths jumping from the cliff and following their kin without a second thought. Watching the stark green and black of Midorima’s wings against the blue and white of the ocean, he felt his heart soar as they did, riding the wind and waves high over the earth and sea. 

 

His beloved had been young once, young, weedy, scared to speak and possibly the most adorable creature he’d ever seen. What if he’d met such a precious, nervous little one during his tenure teaching only to have him return years later, all grown and desperately in love? Laughing it off as the image and dream like trance began to fade, he came back into consciousness with a sharp knock on the door. 

“Get up pretty boy, it’s time to earn those gs.”


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's taking me to long to update. Again this is all written up it just needs uploading my bad. Thank you so much for all your lovely comments! Bless you.

Everyone was staring at him. Some were subtle, others just didn’t seem to care and that just made everything so much worse. What did these people want from him? Was his personal life just so entertaining?

“I would appreciate it if everyone would please stop.” 

“But Midorimamochhi why didn’t you tell us? A whirlwind love affair with an ex student, how romantic.”

“That’s the exact reason I didn’t tell anyone.” Gritting his teeth as he pushed his glasses up his nose, the green winged angel ignored Kise’s pouting in order to pose a question to Akashi. The Emperor looked far too content sitting at the top of the long table, hands folded in front of him with a small smile playing on his thin lips. “I’m glad my personal business is such a hot topic. Is that why we’re all here now? Or is there something of actual importance?” Sitting up a little straighter and nodding slowly, Akashi’s gaze flashed a dangerous gold as he brought in the table’s attention. Calling the Generation of Miracles all together for a meeting was tricky to manage. Usually they were flittered about Teikō, Japan or sometimes the world, so having them all here now was a rarity. 

“Always so focused Shintarō. Actual importance it is.” 

“Nah, I wanna hear more about Midorima and the ****Shūtoku brat, go on spill, I’m actually dying to know.” Glaring at Aomine with venom Midorima ignored any further comments, intent of staring down Akashi until something was actually achieved. The sooner he could leave here and return to his office the better, being around so many of his comrades was tiring and he was becoming impatient and intolerant in in his old age. 

“Enough Daiki, inquiry in your own time. Right now I believe Tetsuya has some interesting developments in our long going battle with the rebel forces.” 

 

Thankful the spotlight was now off him, Midorima turned and watched their tiny, blue winged spy expectantly. Kuroko had seldom been at Teikō any longer than a week over the past several years. After the death of his prized breeding bitch which had no doubt been the only thing that'd been keeping him in residence **,** his presences was becoming less and less.

“We’re slowly working down the layers of Hanamiya plans, and it all starts with this.” Reaching into his shirt and pulling out a feather he passed it around the table with sad, crystal eyes. 

“Some random’s feather?” Holding it to the light and turning it over in his hands, Aomine frowned. “How is Hanamiya’s going to take over the world this way?”

“You’re not looking close enough” reaching over the table and plucking the ruffled

feather from his companion, Midorima held it to his nose, inhaling deeply, his worst fears confirmed. “It’s a child’s.” The silence in the room could have been cut with a knife, deafening and thick. Children were such a rarity and how or why Hanamiya had in their feathers was a mystery. Their feathers weren't bright and grand like their adult counterparts. There were few uses for such a commodity **.** What was the once king doing?  
"I don't like where this is going..." Eyes wide, Kise paled. "He wouldn't!"  
"He might" Akashi said grimly, face tight and stern. "Who knows the length Hanamiya is willing to take for success." Fixing the table with a look designed to strike fear into the hearts of their enemies, their Emperor was chewing at the bit, ready for a fight. "The real question gentleman is how do we stop him."   
  


  
  
This was not what Takao had in mind for either of his new jobs. Being a spy was still well out of his depth and likewise this… Whatever _this_ was wasn't what he’d had in mind either. Why he couldn't just be a handsome, stay at home husband was beyond him. Having followed Hara across the city, they'd kept well above the clouds, making Takao completely unaware of his surroundings. It was certainly an older section of the city, many of the buildings slowly falling down around the streets.   
"Through here and down the stairs. Don't miss your step and don't ask too many questions."  
"You're not coming?" Snorting and tensing to jump into a take off Hara waved him off.   
"Oh hell no, there's a guy down there who'll take you through the ropes. I doubt you'll last." Laughing as he took off, the beats of his great wings stirring a flurry of dust. Coughing and covering his eyes, Takao glared at his retreating figure. That'd be right, drag him all the way to some unknown crumbling mess heap of a neighbourhood and just leave him there. Maybe this was a test. Something to do with loyalty and ability to follow instruction. Tripping in the dark as he missed the final step, Takao flinched as a hand reached out and steadied him. 

“Watch that bottom step, it’ll creep up on you.” Straightening up and dusting himself down, the youngster flashed a winning smile at the other man, taking in his appearance. An angel with long wings and dark hair, he had an air and bearing about him that spoke of age and power. It felt something similar to Akashi, but casual and unthreatening, someone to be overlooked in a crowded room. 

“Yeah there needs to be lights down here or something.” Rubbing the back of his head and looking down the dark narrow hall before him, Takao hummed. “And down there as well.” Laughing as he was clapped on the back, the young angel watched his new found companion turned and waved for him to follow. 

“If we had too many lights we’d get too many unwanted visitors. Kazunari right?” Nodding, the dark haired man counted the doors between himself and the slowly receding exit.

“Yeah Kazunari Takao, ready and willing. Thanks for the opportunity.” Sucking

up a bit couldn’t hurt right? It might be the difference between getting some real information and just getting pushed to the side. He had to make this work, to prove himself. 

“You’re welcome” offering him his hand and shaking it lightly, the older angel smiled, full of teeth and dark humour. “Makoto, nice to meet you.”   

 

Pushing open a side door and pointing to the corner, Makoto smiled. “You’re sure picking up a pretty cushy position here. Just stand there and look cute.” Eyebrows raised in surprise, Takao simply nodded and stood up straight with a salute. 

“Yes sir.” Glancing behind him quickly and clearing his throat, the youngster chuckled. “And don’t let anyone in I suppose.” Nodding, his dark eyes suddenly ice cold and serious, Takao felt a little out of depth as a sense of power and dominance washed over him. 

“Not a joking matter, your job is your life here, don’t fuck it up.” Suppressing a shiver as he watched the angel turn and make his way across the room, he flinched instinctively at his next command. “And don’t put your nose where it’s not supposed to be. That’d be a pretty sad way to ruin such a pretty face.” Watching Makoto unlock and slip through the threshold of the door, Takao couldn’t even manage a peek. Inwardly groaning, he settled back at ease, head held high as his heart beating nervously. Maybe he was getting in over his head… Biting the inside of his cheek, he squared up with a determined glint in his eye. This was his oh so adult mission, a mission assigned by the Emperor himself, Shin-chan would have to acknowledge him after this.

  
  
  


He had to get into that door! Weeks into his new job, months even and he still had nothing concrete to report back to Akashi. It was so embarrassing and possibly the worst situation ever. He was supposed to be proving himself, the grand leader of the Generation of Miracles had offered him this handcrafted opportunity, a real chance to win Shin-chan’s heart and he was blowing it. He couldn’t even tell the redhead were this second hideout was. All he could tell was that the district was old, the air smelt like water and decay and that something much larger was at work here. Illegal export was one thing but there was something dark and evil about this place. Standing for hours at a time, tucked in beside the door, some nights Takao was sure the walls were crawling. The paint peeling and creeping away from the crumbling plaster, leaving him feeling sick and dizzy. He'd taken to singing instead, head down and eyes squeezed shut. A fine guard he was making but it was either that or throw up and wouldn't that be mortifying.   
  
He sung soft and quiet, songs of his youth, songs he'd sung his sister on bright summer days. Songs Shin-chan had taught him during his schooling, songs and memories of a better time. The memories and distractions only worked for so long and did nothing to block out the foul smell of blood. In some of his quieter, braver moments he'd crossed the small room and stared at the simple wooden door with curiosity. There was a seal, a sound proofing no doubt, keeping everything locked within and he knew, just knew there were others in there. He could feel them moving, the vibration through the floor even on his side heavy enough to make the floorboards shake.   
  
Coming back with again nothing for Akashi, he felt increasingly worse when the older angel offered warm words of support. That was just like twisting the knife. Yes he understood he wasn't doing his assigned mission, why did the redhead have to be so nice about it? Setting his resolve for the next day, Takao knew today would be it, he was going to break into the door. He failed twice but bucked up the courage on the third attempt. Imagining Midorima’s condescending praise, he knelt and touched the floor, inhaling deeply and using all his senses to hopefully deduct what he thought was true. There was a pattern he'd noticed, every shift there were two lulls. When the smell of blood dissipated and the vibrations stilled. Break time he'd realised early on and a time he was fully intending on using to his advantage. With zero movement felt and no foreign scents, Takao pushed on.   
  
Fiddling with the lock and handle he was surprised to find it unlocked and loose. Had Makoto forgotten to lock it? Or was he becoming complacent because Takao was doing such a good, trustworthy job? Taking a deep breath as he tugged on the handle, the smell that hit him was devastating, gut wrenching and brought tears to his eyes. Blood, bile and that disgusting fake air freshener. What the hell was this? Slowly tugging open the door and peering inside, it was as if his heart stopped. He'd been considering all different kinds of horrible possibilities, terrible horrible things from human trafficking to organ harvesting, the sick medium between the two stared back at him with the eyes of a tiny child. Four in fact, gagged and locked in a cage akin to something one would find in a chicken hatchery. Not human children he realised, the earth falling out beneath him with a sick lurch. But angelic children, small and vulnerable however their most striking feature just wasn't there. Beautiful wings, so small, delicate and fluffy were gone. In their stead were bleeding, wet, bat like flaps of skin, hanging limply at their backs. The whole scene was terrifying, like something plucked from his deepest, darkest nightmare and yet most terrifying of all was the children themselves. They weren't fighting, screaming or even moving. Instead they stared back at him with dull, dry eyes. Blinking slow and weary.   
"Took you longer than expected." He'd been so tuned into the children, Takao hadn't even noticed Makoto as he re entered the room, a troop of tall angels following.   
"The fuck is this?" Unable to stop himself, Takao could feel himself shaking, rage and guilt crippling him senseless. "What the actual fuck?"   
  
He couldn't even string a sentence together with how angry he was and Makoto just laughed.   
"You don't think we moved you here just because you asked nicely." Moving across the room, Takao stared at him with eyes blazing silver. "I needed to keep you close so you couldn’t reveal anything too significant to that ragga brat." Ragga brat? There was no way he meant... "If Akashi thinks a single little spy is going to catch me out, he's a long way off." Running a hand through his hair Takao watched it return drenched in blood and filth. "How much is he paying you? I’ll double it.” Gritting his teeth and turning his eyes down to the floor, Takao felt the world spin, rage making him unstable. 

“Why?” Hurting children, it was taboo no matter how you looked at it and there was no way any explanation could justify it. Shrugging and gesturing about airly, Makoto took a step closer to the younger angel, a glint lighting his dark eye. 

“Money.” Said as if was the obvious, he smiled. “Overthrowing RULE isn’t cheap, something has to pay for all these coups.” 

 

Frowning, the final pieces of the puzzle falling into place, Takao felt his knees tremble as realisation came tumbling down around him. 

“Makoto Hanamiya…” The dark angel of the Uncrowned King, the man responsible for the current rebellions wroughting RULE and for the crippling of Kiyoshi Teppei. And the creature cutting and plucking the feathers for mere babes. 

“I’m surprised to waited this long, I wonder if the brat will miss you too much.” Looking over his shoulder at the gathering behind him, he nodded to Takao. “Lock him up out the back, the wards will make sure the ragga can’t find him.” Turning back to the dark haired man with a grin, he watched the youngster tense as if to run. Stopped by a set of goons, there was a brief struggle resulting in a small scuffle and a set of black eyes with a split lip. “Kazunari Takao, thank you for your contributions to our company, however your presents is no longer needed.” Leaning in closer as the young angel was dragged kicking and screaming past him, Makoto ran a finger along the arch of Takao’s wings. “Your feathers will probably fetch a high price. Enjoy them while you still can.”                             


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah... I'm not dead. Slowly getting through this one, there's only a couple of chapters left so hoping to polish them off soon and wrap this bad boy up. Or good boy really, both Mido and Takao are good boys. They is best boys.

Midorima wasn’t talking to Akashi. He’d made that clear when he’d refused the man’s invitation twice. It wasn’t even that he was mad at the redhead although that was part of it. He simply didn’t need any updates on Takao and that was no doubt the reason he’d been summoned so often and urgently. It didn’t concern him however and he’d be damned if his Emperor tricked him into caring. Ignoring the messenger only worked for so long and soon enough the the grand Seijuro Akashi himself arrived before his desk. 

“Are you simple?”        

“I thought you weren’t talking to me.” 

“Is this a joke to you?” Losing his temper for that small second must have ticked Akashi off to some of the raw frustration and emotion he was feeling, because those gold and crimson eyes narrowed for a second. 

“No, although if anything this does prove me right on several accounts.” Pulling a face, Midorima clenched his fist with a sharp inhale through his teeth. 

“I swear to god Akashi if this is some kind of game…” 

“No games” the redhead cut in, crossing the room, his face darkened. “I lost track of Kazunari’s aura late last night.” 

 

Flushing hot and cold, Midorima felt as if his entire world had just crumbled away beneath his feet. Takao was dead. That was what Akashi was telling him. Losing someone’s aura and presence was the Emperor’s way of saying death. It was a code he’d used a million times before, but never had it felt so wrong. It couldn’t be, Akashi had to be mistaken.

 

“Shintarō.” So entranced in fear and terror Akashi’s words had washed right over him. “Shintarō Midorima.” Jerking back to reality with a shudder, the green winged angel stared down his leader with carefully neutral eyes. There was a part of him that prayed this was part of Akashi’s joke, or an attempt to make him admit his feelings and needs. “The last thought I intercepted were his desire to seek more information on his employers. I doubt he’s dead Shintarō.” 

“Why? So your conscious is absolved of guilt? Or because it’ll make me easier to handle?” There was no pulling punches here, if Akashi had gotten Takao killed for sticking his nose into Hanamiya’s business, there would be no forgiveness. 

 

“Neither” the redhead said swiftly, trying to resume control of the situation. “He is still alive.” Taking off his glasses and agitatedly rubbing his eyes, Midorima grit his teeth. 

“Not even you can know that.” Akashi’s power stretched far but not even he could raise the dead. 

“I can and do.” Leaning over his desk and pulling the phone off the hook, he smoothly issued a string of orders and summons. “I will need you to trust me Shintarō.” Taking a deep breath and reigning in his temper Midorima tossed his hands up with an exasperated sigh. 

“Well it’s not like I have much of a choice do I?” Even on the off chance Takao was still alive, Akashi was his best option. Nodding solemnly, the redhead delivered him a severe look.

“Don’t fret, it doesn’t suit you. Now before we start anything, to your quarters.” Pausing mid step Midorima looked confused. His head had been in such a muddle of preparation and worst case scenarios he was sure he’d misheard. 

“My quarters?” Nodding as a flash of blue and gold cut across the glass windows before them, Akashi gestured for Aomine and Kise to join them. 

“The Spar Calcite, it’s the key.” 

  
  


Time had never been his friend. Never in his life had time and its cycle been on his side. Had time been fair he would have been born earlier or Midorima would have been born later. The time and age wouldn’t be such a big thing then, they could have been together and then none of this would have happened. This… this whole nonsense, painful affair which would no doubt leave him dead in a ditch only to be discovered by a poor bunch of kids several years from now. But he was probably being dramatic, for all he knew mere hours had past. It felt like longer, impossibly longer. With the pain it felt an eternity, the ache in his wrists and ankles, the sting in his eyes and worst of all his wings, or what was left of them. 

 

Had he been able to see properly he could have inspected the full extent of the damage. Hanamiya had set a burning brand to his eyes, keeping him temporarily blinded and ground. It hadn’t even registered, the searing, crippling agony coming from his wings drowned out any other sensation. Touching someone’s wings was such a personal act and having his torn, grabbed and spread apart was gut wrenching. His mind gave out long before his body did. His awareness dulled, his hearing bottomed out and his previously tense figure could do nothing more but flop against the chain keeping him suspended.

 

A time later when he’d awoke, mouth dry and face tight with blood and worse, Takao forced open his aching eyes. Strung up like some kind of foul art display, it hurt to move but he had to see, now that he could. The extent of the damage may not have been as bad as it felt, wings were sensitive like that. Once upon a time in his youth he'd snapped the pectoral arch of his left wing and had been convinced he was dying. It was the risk of being a skydancer and it certainly had never stopped him from playing the popular angelic sport but the pain... tears and agony. Even with advanced healing and the best care in the world he'd still felt impossibly helpless and sore. The break itself had been quick and clean, healing in a matter of days, certainly no big deal. But the sensitivity was intense.    
  
This situation Takao tricked himself, would be the exact same. The pain would be primarily superficial damage. They'd simply plucked his feathers and knocked him about a bit that was all. Blinking as he craned his neck painfully to look over his straining shoulder, the young angel's heart sank as he realised it was much, much worse. Flashing images of the once grand Kiyoshi Teppei ran through his mind, the grounded Iron Heart with the snapped wing... who suffered at the hands of Makoto Hanamiya. Able to look on any more, tears stinging his already swollen  **eyes** , Takao let his head drop, defeated.    
  


The mess at his back could barely be called wings anymore. Skin bare as the child's locked in the cage, bone peaked through the top of his left wing tip. Blood both dry and fresh coated the table where he knelt, dripping from loose flaps of flesh hanging limply from the bottom if his wings. Bile bit at his throat, pain and terror churned his stomach. He'd never fly again. Even if he escaped his bonds and this dungeon he'd end up a kin to the Iron Heart and Takao knew he didn't have that strength of will. An angel without wings was nothing. He was nothing and was going to die as such.    
  
Going slack against his restraints for a second, something snapped within him, primal and afraid. Straining against the chains hard enough he heard bones snap, Takao howled like a beast, desperate and terror his last resort. He wasn't supposed to die here. He was supposed to win Shin-chan's heart and live at Teikō with everyone, safe and happy. Not this… With tears streaming down his face, limbs bruised and broken, the young angel cried for his mother, his father, his beautiful little sister he'd never see again. He cried for his mountain home, his lost friends and for Shin-chan. If only things had been different. If only he'd been given a chance. If only he'd known better. Hindsight was a terrible thing, bitter and frustrating. But there was no stopping it now, his fate was sealed.    



	16. Chapter Sixteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the kind comments and kudos. Bless you!! (°◡°♡).:｡

The plan was dubious at best but it was the only option they had. Midorima hated last resorts. They were the complete opposite to his overall philosophy. Akashi should have known better, this was an unforgivable oversight.   
"If the boy means nothing to you why are you so distraught? Shouldn't this work in your favour?" It took so much of his years of self imposed training and discipline not to lash out. The green winged angel knew his leader was trying to bait him. Luring him to admit his fear and loss. Not today Satan, not today. Although for all this bravado, his heart would not settle, his chest felt tight and his skin stretched taut across his entire being. Everything was too hot, too tight and it hurt.   
  
"He is important to me." Letting his barely contained rage creep into his voice, Midorima shot the shorter man a severe look. "Don't push me." He was on a knife's edge and while Akashi's pestering no doubt served some purpose it was not something he was capable of dealing with at this very moment.   
"Understood" the redhead said simply, his tone softer than before. Inhaling softly and trying in vain to calm his unstable emotions, Midorima focused on their surroundings with vested interest. Akashi's unique ability was unpredictable and even after centuries of training and hard earned experience it still wasn’t perfect. Narrowing Takao’s last location down to an empty industrial area, the pair were waiting for some backup before proceeding. A necessity but frustrating nonetheless. 

 

“Akashi-kun, Midorima-kun?” Jumping in unison as a small shadow emerged from the darkness behind them, the tall angels acknowledged Kuroko’s appearance with a frown. 

“Tetsuya, have you had any success in locating Kazunari?” Glancing between the two with  a drawn brow, the small angel shook his head. 

“Hanamiya has been sighted in this area but they were old reports and we’ve found nothing as yet.” Humming as he looked around and stared up at the sky, Akashi gestured to Midorima. 

“Check the stone.” Gritting his teeth as he dug around in his pockets, the green winged angel pulled out the cold, slender crystal, rolling it around in his palm with a sigh.

“That’s not how it works, Takao mightn’t even have the other piece on him. And it needs to be in certain range and only if there’s no outside pollution.” Staring down at the stone in hand, his heart sank. There had been a part of him, a small longing part that wanted this to work, wanted to have the green glow strong like a beacon in his hand. But there was no such luck.

“Don’t lose faith” the redhead said with a confidence and calm natural to his personality. “Scour the buildings from the air and watch the stone. He had the stone on him.” Tensing to jump into lift off, Midorima paused and turned, eyeing the other angel suspiciously. 

“Why are you so sure of that?” Gold and crimson eyes stared back at him sad and stern. 

“Because he loves you and it’s a keepsake, you’re not foolish Shintarō, you should know this. Don’t ignore it.” 

  
  


Swooping down low over the tall, crumbling urban sprawl before him, Midorima stared intently at the slither of Spar Calcite. Glancing up and taking in the lay of the land, he was politely ignored the shadow of Kuroko fly in beneath him. Akashi had remained on the ground, awaiting further assistance. His telepathy made for perfect communication should either parties find anything. 

“Midorima-kun” flinching physically as Kuroko caught his attention, the green winged angel glared down at his unwanted but useful hunting companion. “There is a smaller district up here to the right, we haven’t tried there yet.” Nodding stiffly, he hung a sharp right, not waiting for Kuroko to catch up. He’d always been the weakness of the Generation of Miracles and while his talents were indeed useful it seldom outweighed his overall burden. 

 

Looking down at the crystal quickly, his heart jumped as his mind no doubt played a trick on him. It’d flashed. In the blink of an eye, he was sure it had flashed. Pulling up and beating his wings hard to stay stable, Midorima stared around at the surroundings. “Midorima-kun?” Joining him, his small wings working double time, Kuroko awaited an explanation.

“I think” the tall angel said slowly “I saw something. Go lower” Dropping down a couple of feet, Midorima felt his heart skip a beat as the Spar Calcite began to glow, strong and bright. “Somewhere here.” Speaking quiet, barely above a whisper, the green winged angel took a deep breath. A one in a million chance and it had actually worked, Oha Asa sensei was definitely on his side today. Sending an update back to Akashi and their location, the pair dropped back to earth, deciding between the two tall buildings at the centre of the open space. It might have once been a park, but in the time after the recent human conflict, the barren space remained empty.     

 

Splitting up, Midorima pushed through a closed door and ducked low under a dusty walk way. The hall that greeted him was not as expected. Unlike the dusty, untouched exterior, this hall had been disturbed and some time recently. Footsteps marred the dust, leading down the hall and into a various sprawl of doors, effective creating a labyrinth of rooms and possibilities. Fear gripped him, fear and terror of what was to come. Beyond Akashi’s certainty, Takao was almost certainly dead. But being dead was a blessing in connection to Hanamiya **.** Midorima had seen the results of his cruelty, the result of how evil worked and celebrated. He couldn’t accept Takao like that. Not his Takao. The child he’d seen grow. The man he’d felt such pride in. The angel who’d stolen his heart and thrown off his entire perception. The angel who was the light of his life and who would now the the ruin of it and it was all his fault.

 

If only he hadn’t pushed the youngster away. If only all those years ago he’d accepted Takao’s invitation for love he wouldn’t be in this situation. They could be living in Shūtoku right now, happily perched up high on the cliff in that little cottage. Safe and away from this nonsense. But ‘ _ if only _ ’ wasn’t going to help anything now. Now was time for action and as he paced down the dizzily narrow hallway, hand outstretched to pull open the first door, fear drove his actions. Feeling the door come away beneath his grasp, he stepped inside, heart in his throat. 

 

Nothing. Nothing but silence and dust. Letting out the breath he’d been holding, Midorima slammed his fist against the door frame, listening to the satisfying crack of the wood as he moved on to the other rooms. Taking in the smells and the silence, his faith in the Spar Calcite wavered. It was probably just reaction to a similar mineral they were in the industrial district after all. Snapping in his wings closed as he paced further down the hall, the catch of the lock on the second last door made him curious. Testing the lock and weighing up the height and length of the door it was unlikely to hold up against him and yet with a single stiff shoulder, the flimsy looking door didn’t shift. Desperation and frustration made him reckless and the wall beside the door didn’t look too tough. Slamming against the wall and using his wings to take much of the brunt of the force, Midorima brushed off the plaster and splinters as he took in the room with its sickening scent of blood and worse. Eyes adjusting quickly to the ill light he yanked off his glasses and cleaned them on the inside of his shirt. He quickly wished he hadn’t. 

 

He’d seen many a things throughout his centuries of life. Horrible things, amazing things, he himself was even titled a miracle. But even he wasn’t immune to the sight which befell him. Children were his weakness, the weakness of all angels and humans. A common trait shared between the species and no one ever wanted to see their young suffer. Iron in his feet, Midorima pushed himself forward, relaying the message and accompanying imagery to Akashi. 

_ Bring help, here quick. I found the source of the feathers.  _


	17. Chapter Seventeen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Slowly! And currently living in Canada. Taking some time during this wet Spring to get some of this finished!   
> Much thanks for your support and patience. Bless!!

Jaded as he was, things hurt. Regardless of age or power, things would always hurt. This was one of them. His search and fear for his young admirer had been momentarily put on the back burner as he sorted through and treated as many of the small angels as possible with the limited resources they had. Having Akashi and his ground back up arrived, his diagnosis for many of the little ones wasn’t a positive one. Young minds were for the hardest to heal and the extent of some of these children’s suffering was irreversible. Head bent low as he watched the wide eyed, still figures carried out by stern faced members of Akashi’s household, Midorima barely even registered Kuroko’s sudden presence at his side. 

“Midorima-kun?” Snapping his head down and staring aimlessly at the small angel, Midorima frowned. 

“Yes?” Kuroko he assumed would have been off with the first shipment of the children leaving. The quiet angel was good with children and his support and help would no doubt be critical in their rehabilitation.

 

“Takao-kun-” Looking away at the mere mention of his name, Midorima physically ached at the reminder of his failure. “I think I found him.” Jerking his head up with a sudden fierce determination, the green winged angel reached out and grabbed his smaller companion roughly, the emotional trauma of the evening making him desperate. 

“Where? Show me.” There was a pause, a pause longer than Midorima could stomach, resulting in a swift shaking of the smaller man. “Show me.” Following Kuroko aimlessly, he could feel his wings dragging across the ground but couldn’t bring himself to care. A numbness had spread across his being, the horrors of the night shutting down every emotion he’d possessed. It was easier to keep an objective view when feelings were involved. Not that it worked all that well. The cold objective treatment of Takao was half the reason they were in this mess. 

 

Refusing to get caught up on ifs or buts, Midorima set his shoulders high, wings lifted high off the ground. If this was indeed his fault he’d bare the brunt of the responsibility. Pushing aside the thought of Takao’s tiny baby sister, the green winged angel ducked low beneath the door and kept a steady focus on the fluorescence of Kuroko’s hair. Blood was heavy in the air coupled with a special scent he recognised as Takao’s, Midorima felt his calm exterior slip. Snapping his head up the second it fell, he forced his gaze around the room, taking in the dim room with baited breath. 

 

And there it was. 

 

There  _ he _ was. 

 

A reflection of the tiny babe he once knew. Quicksilver eyes were red and swollen with tears, dull and glassy. The soft, silky black velvet of his hair matted and split. And those pitch wings… 

“I freed him from his bounds but thought it best to keep everyone at bay until you gave him a once over.” Nodding slowly, Midorima was barely registering Kuroko’s words. His body was moving automatically, conscious still numb as a primal, instinct pushed him forward. Ignoring the superficial trauma of his wings, Midorima knelt before his ex ward, bandaged fingers shaking as he reached out to the other man. 

 

“Takao?” Voice cracking, the tall angel cleared his throat. He couldn’t show any weakness, not right here, not right now. He needed to protect, heal. It was his job after all. “Takao I need you to look at me.” Resisting the urge to flinch, Midorima caught the wayward hand that came up to slap him in the face. He was far stronger than the youngster both in age and power but he didn’t restrain the other man, he simply waited. 

“Not real.” Frowning at the words bubbling from his injured companion’s lips, the tall man shuffled closer, closing a hand around Takao’s shoulder.  

“Kazunari, it’s okay. You’re safe now.” Feeling the other man tense to pull away Midorima let him go, listening to the quiet whispers coming from his once cocky companion. 

“Not real, you’re not real. Shin-chan would never call me Kazunari.” 

 

That was true, maybe acting cold and objective was going to be the correct approach. 

“Takao.” Using his clear, stern tone he drew upon the memories from all those years ago. To when he’d stood in front of this being for the first time, both then and now feeling far too out of his depth. “Kazunari Takao, look at me.” It was hard to watch the young angel tremble beneath the weight of his words but it was for his own good. “Look at me.” Snapping his head up, eyes leaking tears, nose runny and red, Takao’s dull gaze sharpen, zoning in on Midorima with intensity.

“Shin-chan?” Reaching out blindly and cupping the back of the other man’s head, the green winged angel cradled his ex student gently. 

“It’s okay Takao, you’re safe now.” 

  
  


The mind was hard to heal. The hardest of all wounds and something Midorima had never had any interest in learning to fix. Until now. Now he wished he’d invested more time and effort into such disciplines as he now found himself failing miserably. As with all matters of the heart he struggled and this was no exception. 

 

Takao would live, of that he was sure **.** How he would live remained to be see. Coming back to Teikō, Midorima had pushed the youngster into rest, keeping him in such a state until the worse of his physical injuries healed. Leaving him in the care of his extended household, Midorima distracted himself with the fledglings and their health. Many were malnourished with heavy scar tissue built up on their tiny fragile wings. But the feathers would grow back and with a well balanced diet, they’d be physically right on track to recovery. Physically. Many of them asked about The Father and if he would be back soon. Midorima refused to give them an answer, staring down at the tiny creatures tall and imposing. He would play the scary monster to Kuroko and the Iron Heart’s kindness if needed. 

 

But not all the children would accept such kindness. In the few brief discussions he’d managed to have Akashi he’d been disgusted to discover some of the older children didn’t stand a chance at rehabilitation and had been  _ removed _ . He’d never questioned Akashi’s coldness, his ruthlessness was the reason they’d gotten so far. Seeing off the last child, carried by the giant Murasakibara, Midorima took a quiet moment of reflection. Takao’s recovery would soon be complete, but the decision to wake him would come down to Midorima in his professional opinion. Thus his current dilemma.

 

Waking his ex student ran the risk of more tears, more fear and nothing of what he knew Takao to be. That Takao might very well be lost forever, and he should have never taken it for granted. Removing his glasses and rubbing his sore eyes, the tall angel pushed aside his selfish guilt and worry. His job was to help and never had he run from a challenge. Man proposes and god disposes and he would take every precaution to ensure Takao recovered, mind, body and soul. 

 

Leaving his office with a nod to a still household member acting as a guard, he set them at liberty before making a beeline to his quarters. Watching over Takao had become his nightly obsession and no one had yet stopped him. Stepping around a sharp corner and through his apartment door, the tall angel froze as a secondary sense sent shivers down his spine. 

“Why the smoke and mirrors? Have you done something to fear my wrath?” 

Akashi he assumed would have been planning his next battle strategy all the while running collateral for the fact they’d missed the abduction and indoctrination of so many children. Instead he was sitting in Midorima’s kitchen, alone and in the dark. Maybe he was hiding. 

“Not yet” the redhead said calmly, standing to greet him. “But I suppose it all depends on what you say next.” 

“Oh?” Squaring his shoulders and bringing himself up to his full height, Midorima knew it was impossible to intimidate Akashi, but at least it gave him some sense of control. 

  
"We have to wake Kazunari up." Inhaling sharply through his nose, Midorima felt himself tense defensively.  
"I know that, it's on my recommendation." His mouth a thin line, Akashi didn't look convinced.  
"But will you undertake it? This has some serious repercussion Shintarō. There's no knowing how he's going to take everything and his wings-"   
"Are fine" Midorima cut in, eyes flashing angrily. Touching someone's wing was such a personal thing and scalping them was one of the worst kind of tortures. Thankfully Takao was young enough and strong enough that his feather began to resprout even before leaving that god forsaken death pit. But it could have have been so much worse, especially knowing Hanamiya and his fondness of maiming. Ignoring yet another of his medical failures, Midorima stared hard at the shorter angel trying to further pinpoint his motivative. "You are far too invested in the young man, why?"   
  
There was a possibility Takao possessed or would eventually possess some power of interest to RULE but Akashi' s interest felt way too personal. "Does he belong to someone?" Humming, a finger tapping his lips the redhead seemed content to play coy.   
"Not to my knowledge, at least not yet." He paused. "I'm about to give you an opportunity Shintarō to fix somethings." Eyebrow raised, Midorima knew better than to accept Akashi's 'opportunities' on face value.   
"Really? Fix what?"   
"Kazunari." 


	18. Chapter Eighteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, it's over! THANK YOU EVERYONE SO MUCH! This has been my labour of love for such a long time and such a joy to write. It got steamy, scary and sad and it was a blast to pen down. Again thank you so much for reading, commenting and kudoing. It's like getting a high five everytime a notifcation pops up so thank you.   
> I hope you've enjoyed and again I'm always (desperately) open for suggestions. Bless.

Wincing on reflex, the green winged angel looked away with a tisk.   
"I'm not letting you in my head."  
"And I'm not asking you to." His tone sharp, Akashi suddenly looked a lot more tired. “I’m trying to help you.” 

“Why?” Crossing his arms and refusing to budge on the matter, Midorima held his head high. “I’ve never asked such a thing of you.” 

“And you never would.” Clearing his throat with a shake of his head, Akashi sighed. “Don’t you see it? Everyone else can. The boy can but you just can’t.” Confused and a little offended, the tall angel immediately went to jump on the offensive but was beaten to the punch as the redhead continued. “It’s partly my fault you see. I made you like this, made Tetsuya like this. Everyone, for my own selfish desires and victory I turned you into monsters.”

“Don’t flatter yourself” Midorima muttered, however his almighty leader had a good point, it was a subject he’d pondered long and hard about for long nights and years. 

 

If Akashi hadn’t taken them, trained them, groomed them into something akin to a miracle who knows what kind of life they’d be living. 

“I want you to be happy Shintarō.” A heartfelt confession that both shocked and pleased Midorima in a manner he’d never expected. “I want you to be happy. I want Tetsuya to smile. I want Atsushi to feel love and Daiki to feel conquest.” Looking down the redhead looked noticeably uncomfortable. “When I met Furihata something changed." Snorting despite the situation, Midorima pushed his glasses up his nose with a huff. No words were needed, everyone knew of the sudden change that had come over their once cold, unfeeling ruler. Although many had believed it would make the fierce redhead weak, his need to protect and love fuelled a more prominent power than any could have imagined. Love doesn't make you weak. Akashi had confided this to Midorima once upon time and yet the green winged angel had scoffed, as he did now. "I'm serious, please let me make this right."   
  
Face twisted in a tight frown, Midorima was unmoving, his mood quickly spiralling into aggression.   
"I am not something to fix, nor will I let you atone for these so called sins you've created." Stepping aside, he gestured to the door. "No more tonight please. Tomorrow I will bring Takao out of sedation, my personal affiliation will not hamper my work."   
"It should" standing toe to toe with the tall angel, Akashi mere presence had Midorima's knees shaking. "You love him."   
Looking away, eyes to the floor, the healer adjusted his glasses with a sniff.   
"I am protective of him, as anyone would be." Frowning the redhead didn't back down.   
"Why does this cut you so much? Admitting love is no weakness."   
"It's not-" fiddling with a peeling bandage, Midorima sighed. "It's not weakness,  I understand this." Blinking in surprise the smaller angel cocked his head to the side.   
"Then why-"  
"He was my responsibility. Mine to protect, educate and scold. But not to love." Narrowing his eyes for a moment, Akashi suddenly chuckled.   
"You're still hung up on him being a child? Shintarō when we were his age we'd already risen empires." He shook his head, giving his companion a pitying look. "Immortals should not be held by such morals, otherwise our race would have died out years ago." Ignoring the tall angel's seething look, he pushed passed him and down into the inner sanctum. "Come show me how he's healing."   
  
Tense and annoyed at the talk down Midorima followed his leader reluctantly. Had he known Akashi was going to be visiting his quarters he would have made the effort to offer a more welcoming environment to the sterile, infirmary feel that greeted them. Taking in the bed and his slumbering occupant, that primal urge rose again. The need to protect, the instinct to attack and drive off those who sort harm. Even allies couldn't be trusted. "They grew back well." Angling his head down low to get a good look at Takao’s dark fluffy wings, Midorima felt his own wings flare up aggressively, a show of strength and warning. Smiling at him and standing back with hands raised in a gesture of surrender, the redhead spoke slow and soft. "An over reaction for a teacher worried about his student."   
  
Taking the seat beside the bed with a grunt, he gestured to mattress and the sleeping angel. "My time is limited Shintarō, I offer this service to you as a friend. Go in and assess the damage and prepare for tomorrow. Trust me.” Closing his eyes, Midorima took a deep breath. He knew what Akashi was offering. A mind meld, an opportunity to step into Takao’s current conscious and interact with him there. There were both pros and cons to this experience but Akashi as he often was, was right. 

“Fine.” Laying down next to the sleeping man and shuffling his wings about to get comfortable, the tall man flinched as Akashi touched his forehead gently, brushing his fringe aside. 

“Take your glasses off, I’d hate for them to get broken.” Snapping his glasses closed and putting them aside, the tall man laid back with eyes shut. There was always something so unnerving about Akashi’s ability and although it’d been many years since he’d suffered on the receiving end of it he recognised the feeling. The creeping Other that embraced his conscious before sucking him under. Opening his eyes slowly, he shuddered at being at the mercy of another’s psyche. Even if that person was Takao, who knew the extent of the damage he’d received as a result of Hanamiya. What greeted him however didn’t feel broken or fuzzy, in fact it’s clear familiarity was down right confusing. He was staring at a ceiling, a ceiling he eventually identified as belonging to the cottage at Shou. Scowling at it the green winged angel craned his neck to the side. Laying flat on his back, he recognised the softness of the mattress and the cushion of the pillows. But why he was sleeping back in the rookery? Maybe it was Takao’s special place, his retreat after such trauma. 

 

Laying at his side was Takao himself, sleeping deep and peaceful. He looked so handsome...  _ and so young _ a small voice in his head prompted. Pushing it aside and reaching out, Midorima shook him gently, the sheet about the youngster's shoulders slipping as he did. Beneath his bare chest and collarbone were exposed, pale and goosebumping. Fighting down a sudden rush of arousal, Midorima focused on the task at hand, slapping the man roughly around the face until he sniffed awake. Silver eyes slitted open, sleepy and confused. 

“Shin-chan?” The husky tone of his barely awake voice made Midorima shiver, had Takao always been this attractive? Or was it the logic of Akashi’s word giving him the permission to admire and misbehave. 

“You’re safe Takao,” thinking back to their last conscious meeting with a lurch of his stomach, it was important to ensure the younger felt safe especially as his mental state was still fragile. 

“Am I dead?” Rolling over fully to face his ex mentor, the dark haired man pouted. “I didn’t want to die yet.” Pushing away the stabbing pain in his heart, Midorima rearranged his position and wings, settling in nose to nose with the young man. 

“You’re not dead, you’re safe at Teikō.” He paused, frowning. “Can you remember when we found you?" It was possible his mind had shut down by that point, hoping to reduce the amount of suffering. Shuffling in closer still, the young angel spread his wings wide, arching them up and over the edge of the big bed.   
"I do, but it was a dream." Shaking his head in frustration, Midorima reached over and pinched his companion's cheek hard.   
"A painful dream" he snapped listening to Takao yelp and rub at his sore spot. Screwing up his face and staring at the older man confused, Takao hummed.   
"This has to be a dream, there is no way you'd come to me like this." Blushing Midorima had to admit, naked and in bed probably wasn't the best place to assess mental stability, but this was Takao's mind, it was his decision.   
"I've come to you the way your mind perceived my arrival, if you don't like it you can change it."   
  
Watching the dark haired man grin, the shortness of his tone must have been a pretty clear indication of his discomfort.   
"I think I like it." Stretching out lazily along side him, Takao smile only grew as he peeked beneath the covers. "I've always imagined waking up next to you like this." Squeezing his eyes shut and unsuccessfully trying to clear his mind of the implication, Midorima had to constantly remind himself of Akashi's presence, everything was being filtered through him. And any talk of waking up naked together was far too mortifying.   
"Imagine it later" the green winged angel said with a sigh, subtly attempting to ignore how very close the other man was. 

"Is everything okay?" Looking and sounding worried, Takao's silver eyes blinked owlishly. So he was afraid Midorima thought, checking off an internal checklist. Some fear was good, it meant memory and conclusion, he just hoped it wouldn't sprawl into crippling terror.   
"Everything is fine-"  
"My wings?" Grabbing at Midorima's shoulders and staring back at his wings, Takao sounded frantic. "Are my wings okay?" Shushing him and shaking off his vice like grip, the healer nodded.   
"Your wings are fine. They've made a complete recovery, although I will have to recommend some exercises to undertake before flying again."   
  
The relief that washed over Takao was practically physical. The soft slump of his shoulders, his wings falling back against the bed with a quiet flop and the deep lines of fear on his usually youthful face faded in seconds.   
"Thank you Shin-chan" the iron grip that had just crushed his shoulders cupped his face as gentle as a butterfly's touch. He shouldn't have allowed it, it was an overly familiar touch, something shared between lovers, especially while naked in bed. Licking his lips and unsure how to process this development, Midorima cleared his throat, remembering why they were here in the first place. 

 

“Takao before you wake up, I have to make sure you’re really okay.” Fixing him a stern stare, Midorima waited for his words to sink in. 

“Scared I’m going to wake up and head out to sea?” Wincing at his balaze tone, it took a lot not to simply reach out and pinch his cheeks again. Angelic suicide was tricky but not impossible, drowning worked best. Their wings collected water and pulled them under, a term like going out to sea was not something to be taken lightly. 

“A little yes.” It was a harsh truth, but he needed to know. They could get through it together, but he’d need to prepare first. Preparation was key. Listening to the soft chuckling from his young companion, Midorima felt a shiver run up his spine at the sound. How had such an innocent and pure laugh not changed in so many years.

“Do worry Shin-chan, I won’t be adding ‘death of a student’ to your list of mistakes.” Wincing at the sting in his tone, the tall angel knew it’d be now or never to clear all this mess up. He’d lost the youngster once, he refused to lose him again. 

 

“I can’t lose you” he said slowly, unable to meet his companion’s eye. “I won’t lose you.” Jerking his head up, meeting those quicksilver eyes with deep, blazing intensity, he made sure Takao could see his intent, his need and his promise. Watching the other man’s jaw drop, speechless perhaps for the first time, Mido frowned as the other man started to laugh. 

“Oh please, now I know this has to be a dream.” Reaching out and cupping the other man’s cheek with barely contained emotion. 

“Kazunari, I’m serious. I. Won’t. Lose. You. Again.” Pushing the emphasis on his word with forced pause, the older man swallowed thickly as he swiftly surged forward, catching his companion's lip with fierce passion. 

 

It felt good, so good. Rich, deep and a complete sensory overload. Pulling apart panting, Mido put a hand on Takao chest as the man went back for a second serving. 

“Wait, Akashi is... “ What would be the correct phrase? “Overseeing this session.” That was a nice way to put it. And hopefully it would spook the youngster too much. 

“Oh that’s how it is.” Looking around as if half expecting the redhead to be loitering in some near by corner, preving on this whole affair, Takao blushed bright to his roots. “Bold of you Shin-chan.”

“You weren’t listening” the older angel said with a hiss, running a hand through his tussled hair in the hope it wasn’t too out of place. “Now” he coughed, coming back to the main focus of this mind meld. “Are you ready to wake up? Can I trust you won’t” he paused “over react?” Wiggling across the small space between them, arms reaching out to slid in and bring the taller man in for a close embrace, Takao hummed.  

“Well it looks like I have everything I could ever wish for and more. Finally” he added with purpose and a little venom. “Why would I throw that all away now?” Relief washing over healer at his companion’s, it was exactly what he’d needed to hear. Head a little dizzy at the gravity of the situation but pleased overall, Midorima gave a sure nod. 

“We’ll speak again soon. Don’t go anywhere” 

“So romantic Shin-chan.” Ignoring the quiet, fading tease as he broke out of Takao’s conscious, the green winged angel blushed as he woke up to his body curled protectively around the younger man, Akashi watching on nearby with unsettling smug eyes. 

“Don’t” the tall angel warned, stretching out from his current position, with a stiff arch of his back. “I don’t need to hear it.” 

“Oh but you do” the redhead said softly, turning to walk, calm and confident from the room. “You love him so much. I told you so.”

**Author's Note:**

> [I can haz a tumblr](http://www.blushingninja.tumblr.com)


End file.
